Behind The Facade
by TheMizMagnet
Summary: It was supposed to be done and over with, but fate was putting them together. But when the veil one of them wears is pierced, will it all come tumbling down? Slash, possible dark themes; warning inside
1. Teams

**Title**: Behind the Facade

**Rating**: M - Mature

**Genre**: Romance, Angst, Drama

**Pairings**: JerichoMiz, possible others

**Warnings**: Slash, sex, possible abuse, possible dark themes

**Summary**: It was supposed to be done and over with, but fate was putting them together. But when the veil one of them wears is pierced, will it all come tumbling down?

**AN**: I have to thank **wrestlefan4** for reawakening my muse on this one. I read her story, _Discovering Love_ (even though it's over), and I loved it, and it helped me to realize what it was I wanted to write. So, if you've read it before, I'm trying to keep it different, but some things may sound familiar. I'm not stealing directly from her, but I am going to use the same GENERAL theme. It's not the same thing. Just throwing that out there. Oh, and if you haven't read it, go read it, because it's amazing. I know I shouldn't be starting a new one, but I am. Don't worry. I haven't forgotten about any of my other fics. I'm still working on them. I think that's it, so here we go!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindtheFacade**

A sigh escaped the man's lips as he stared out the window. Sure, Vince had just called, and sure, he was supposed to be there like, RIGHT NOW, but it could wait a minute, right? Besides... how often did he get such a great view from his hotel room? They were on the west coast, in sunny freakin' Florida. There was nothing wrong with Florida, if you discounted the scalding sun and killer humidity that made Matt Hardy look like an electrocuted Furby. At least he got a beach-view room... Then again, that view could turn deadly seeing as it was Hurricane season...

Mike pushed these thoughts out of his mind and pulled on the t-shirt, pulling the intricately designed shirt over his head and straightening it out over his torso. It was a dark gray in color, but had a swirling, almost ink-like design in black decorating the entire shirt. He slipped his feet into the gray tennis shoes, and he put the final touches on the outfit: the black and gray scarf wrapped around his neck, and the black fedora with gray pinstripes.

A knock announced his presence outside Vince's door, and a gruff 'Enter' was his response. He walked in, closing the door behind him, and turned to face the Chairman of the WWE. However, his eyes narrowed when they landed on a particular man.

"You."

His voice was venom, anger, and something that lingered just below the surface. He knew what it was, but he was no longer Mike. He was The Miz, and those things weren't allowed to be revealed right now. The brunette in the chair sighed in frustration, raking one hand through his hand, upsetting the jeweled sunglasses resting on his head. He replaced them, looking at Vince.

"Is this why you didn't tell me what was going on?"

His voice wasn't amused, and neither was Mike's as he turned furious blue eyes to Vince McMahon.

"Fuck this," Mike hissed. "Whatever this is, I'm not doing it."

"Sit your ass down, Mizanin!" Vince growled. Mike turned at sat down in the free chair, moving it away from his former tag team partner.

"You both know that Jericho and Show are keeping the tag titles through this match at Hell in a Cell," Vince started. Both men nodded, and Vince continued. "However, the creative team has decided that you both are going to get a shot. I am aware with what happened at the Draft, the two of you aren't on friendly terms, but we're going to see what happens. They want to reform your tag team, but with the fear that you, Mizanin, will turn on Morrison at any time." The two competitors looked at each other once more.

"Vince, we both have titles," John stated. Vince raised an eyebrow, and John quickly explained. "I mean, I'm the Intercontinental Champion, and Mike's gonna become the U.S. Champion, right?" Mike glanced at John, but looked back at Vince.

"And? I didn't say you would be getting the titles, did I? I just said you were going to be facing them. Truth be told, we're letting JeriShow continue their reign for a little bit. Chances are, Show's going to grow tired of Jericho using him as a shield and we'll split their tag team."

Mike and John stayed silent for a few minutes, before John shifted. Mike's eyes had narrowed.

"Alright, how are we getting the team back together?"

"Mike is going to run the idea past you on SmackDown next week. You're going to turn him down, bring up what happened at the Draft, and Mike, you'll defend what happened..."

Vince continued on with what was going to happen, but the mention of the Draft had Mike slipping back into the past, remembering what had happened that night.

_Mike blinked and looked around, spinning around as the bell rang. He saw John Morrison let go of Kofi Kingston's leg, holding his hands up defensively as the ref yelled at him. Mike stared at Morrison for a minute. Okay, this was... not what was planned, but okay... _

_The titantron lit up with the scrolling faces of WWE Superstars for RAW's draft pick. Mike looked at it, his heart beating in his chest. As the scrolling stopped, Mike's heart stopped. His face was there. The Miz was drafted to RAW._

_Kofi rolled out of the ring as John Morrison got into the ring. Be Jealous couldn't continue when they were on two different brands. Mike turned, looking at Morrison. Mike asked what the hell Morrison was thinking, and the Shaman of Sexy explained that he only wanted to help, to insure that ECW got the draft pick. Mike shook hands with Morrison, before he viciously unleashed a Reality Check on his ex-partner. He glared down at him before sliding out of the ring_.

"You got it?" Vince asked, snapping Mike's thoughts out of the past. Mike rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"Whatever, Vince. It's not like you're going to give us that much of a choice," Mike said. Vince grinned slightly.

"You're right, I'm not. Get out of my office."

With that, Mike and John were excused. They walked out, John putting a hand on Mike's shoulder as they walked out.

"Look, Mike... About what happened at the Draft..." John started, but Mike cut him off with a look.

"No, I don't want to talk about what happened at the Draft, what happened before the Draft, or what's going to happen now, okay? I just want to get this stupid storyline over with and move on." With that said, Mike tugged his shoulder free of John's grasp and walked away, agitation dancing across his features.

**BehindtheFacade**

Chris frowned as he listened to the message on his voicemail. Wrestling and trying to get Fozzy's newest single recorded and released meant that he had to be all over the place all the time. He raised an eyebrow as Vince told him that JeriShow would go up against the reformed Be Jealous tag team after the Hell in a Cell match. Well, that would prove interesting... Mike had been shooting through the ranks of RAW, even if it was just for the United States Championship. It was a good belt, but it didn't get the same hype as the WWE Championship or the World Heavyweight Championship. That was interesting... They had been told it was going to stay on RAW, and probably go to DX... Vince and the creative team must have changed their mind.

Chris deleted the voicemail and punched in another phone number, listening to the ringing before a voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Paul, it's Chris. You hear what Vince has planned for us?"

"Yeah... Mike and Hennigan, right?"

"Yes. I just wanted to make sure. See you Monday."

"Yup."

That was the extent of the conversation. Chris put his phone back in his pocket as he walked into the hotel, heading for the elevator. All he wanted now was to just lay down and try to enjoy his weekend. Sure, he was alone for the weekend, but whatever. He really didn't care. The recording and constant travel was taking its toll on him, and he just wanted to sleep... Knowing Vince, either Tuesday or Wednesday would be the day that Chris, Paul, Mike, and John all got together to work on their new feud. But, for now... Now, it was time to rest and see what this newest feud would bring.

**TBC**

**AN**: I know it's really short, but this is all I can get out right now. I have to figure out what I want to happen right after this, but it's going to be interesting. Now... I wonder what happened before the Draft between Mike and John... Hmmmm... Reviews make me happy!

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	2. Training

**AN**: Pretty good turn out on the first chapter, even though I really didn't know exactly where I wanted to go with this one. But, I did figure it out, stay calm, so yeah. Thanks to **NeroAnne**, **CodyRhodesFan**, and **Esha Napoleon**, who all reviewed. I'm beginning to think of you three as my loyal followers. Anyway! Here's the second chapter, I hope you enjoy. If it seems short, I'm sorry... The length should pick up soon.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindtheFacade**

The following Wednesday, Chris pulled up in his rental car to see the large, tell-tale bus of Paul Wight, AKA The Big Show. There were a few more cars in the arena, but he figured they belonged to trainers, Mike, and John. Well, that meant that Chris was last. Whatever. He was usually one of the first people, so being late this once wouldn't hurt anything. Upon parking, Chris grabbed the duffel from the passenger seat and walked into the arena, pressing the fob on his keychain to lock the rental car so that no one got any wise ideas.

Once inside, he walked into the locker room and pulled on a pair of old trunks and ring boots. Upon walking out of the locker room, he saw that a few of the Divas were there. The two that he saw were Melina and Mickie James, who both waved to him. He waved back and jogged to the practice ring, seeing that Paul, Mike, and John were already there. Paul wore his old black wrestling gear, Mike wore his old shorts, and John wore the same tight pants he wore all the time. Chris rolled into the ring and stood up, watching the trainer as he began to explain.

"Alright, Mike and John, you two will come out separate. Since you're both still in the beginning stages of rejoining the old team, you're going to be cautious around each other," he started. Chris noticed that Mike rolled his eyes and shifted his weight, leaning back against the turnbuckle as though this whole thing bored him. Chances are, it did. The trainer was a good guy, but he had a bad habit of going over everything.

"After that, Mike will take the microphone and state that he and John are already the Intercontinental Champion and the United States Champion, and remind everyone that the two of you have already had the WWE Tag Team Championship and the World Tag Team Championships. You'll go to say your catchphrase, and then Chris and Paul, you'll come out together. You'll stop at the ramp with a microphone, Chris, insult the audience a little, say that Mike and John are nothing compared to the forty titles between the two of you, including the unprecedented nine-time Intercontinental Championship, okay?"

The trainer paused, making Chris roll his eyes. He, Paul, and John nodded. Mike just looked at the trainer. Chris noticed that he seemed a bit frustrated today...

The trainer continued, laying out the basics of the match. Since it was just a promo match for Bragging Rights, John and Mike were scheduled to win. Their win would put them in the running for the Unified Tag Team Championship, though the creative team was still deciding whether or not there should be a Tag Team Battle Royale for the Number One Contender spot. After that, the trainer left, saying if they wanted to practice some of the moves, they were welcome to. Chris watched as Mike's blue eyes examined Paul, and then he sighed.

"You wanna practice how the hell I'm supposed to get you in a head lock?" he asked. Paul chuckled and nodded.

"Might as well," he said. John looked at them.

"Well, since it's going to be different working with Paul, why don't we just practice the whole match?" he asked. Mike's blue eyes cut over to John in frustration, but he moved over to his turnbuckle, climbing out of the ring. John and Chris were supposed to start the match, so that's what they did. Show stood in his corner and they watched as John and Chris locked up, exchanged blows, and paused long enough to demonstrate to one another how the moves were going to go off.

John tagged in Mike and Chris tagged in Paul. Mike and Paul sparred a little before Paul lay down on the mat.

"Okay, you'll bounce off the ropes and land on my back. Then, you're going to wrap your arms around my neck in the head lock, and pull up. Hold on, because I'm supposed to stand up."

Paul patiently explained to Mike how it was supposed to happen and had Mike do it with him. The two worked as a unit to make sure the move was pulled off. The head lock wasn't the end of the match, but it was going to play a pretty good part there.

After the four had finished and worked up a pretty good sweat, they headed back to the locker room, where Chris decided to extend a friendly offer.

"Hey, you guys wanna get somethin to eat? We're going to be working together, seeing a lot more of each other, and I don't know a lot about you two, John, Mike." Paul grinned and shook his head.

"Sorry, partner. I've got to get back and start traveling now, or I'll never be there in time," he said. Chris nodded. With Paul's size, he wasn't exactly able to ride in planes comfortably, so he had to drive in that large bus a lot.

"It's cool. Seeya there, Paul," Chris said. Paul nodded, grabbing his bag and heading out to the bus. John shook his head.

"Sorry, Chris. I have a date," John said. Mike, who had his back turned to the Shaman of Sexy, tensed slightly before he continued to gather his things. It was minute, and hard to catch, but Chris had.

"Enjoy yourself," Chris said. "Mike...?"

"Not this time, Chris. Maybe some other time."

"I'm holding you to that, Mike."

Mike turned, and two pairs of blue eyes met, one holding a carefree, teasing tone. The other held a swirling mixture of confusion, the lingering frustration, and something hiding just beneath the surface. Mike shook his head, rolling said blue eyes before he shouldered his bag and walked out.

"Whatever, Chris."

Chris frowned as he watched Mike walk away. What was there behind Mike's guise of The Miz? This was a puzzle Chris couldn't wait to put together. He wasn't even upset about going to lunch alone anymore...

**BehindTheFacade**

Mike walked out of the locker room, putting his plain black fedora on his head. The sparkling flame fedora hadn't been worn for a while, and Mike didn't want to dwell on why. He kept his eyes on the floor as he thought about the look Chris had given him just before Mike walked out of the room. Sure, there was a joking atmosphere in the room when they looked at each other, but Chris had given him this confused frown before Mike left. What was up with that? The Chick Magnet was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the other person in the hallway until he walked into her.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry," he muttered, helping her up after noticing she had fallen onto her ass.

"It's cool, Mike. What've you got on your mind?"

The familiar voice snapped Mike out of his thoughts, and he blinked at the smaller woman. Mickie James wore a playful grin on her face, and Mike cracked a small smile.

"A lot of stuff's going on... I'll tell you over lunch, if you want," he said. Mickie laughed and nodded, grabbing her own bag that she had dropped.

"Sure, Mike. That'd be great."

A short while later, at a small diner hidden somewhere in the state, Mickie sat across from Mike in the booth, a straw between her lips as she sipped at the sweet tea. Mike had a tall glass of water, and was absently watching the condensation drip down the glass. Shortly after what happened before the draft, Mike had been in shock and tears, and tore out of the locker room of the backstage area, only to run into Mickie, who had been visiting Tommy Dreamer on ECW that night. He ran right into her, and she had sat him down, getting the story out of him. That night had made them close friends, and Mickie was beginning to see the man as her brother.

"Hello, do you know what you want to eat?"

The waitress' voice was what snapped the two out of their thoughts. Mickie blushed slightly and glanced at the menu.

"I'll have the bacon cheeseburger, everything on it... with a side of fries," she said. The waitress nodded and wrote it down, glancing at Mike.

"Uh... Chicken sandwich, nothing on it, side of fries," he replied. She nodded, took their menus, and disappeared again. Mickie watched him.

"Spill, Mikey," she ordered. He looked at her, and she grinned back. He shook his head, but began to speak.

"I'm in a new storyline. Vince wants Be Jealous put back together to face off against JeriShow at Bragging Rights," he said. Mickie raised an eyebrow, stirring the tea in her glass around.

"He knows what happened, right?" she asked. Mike shrugged.

"I'm not sure, but he won't take no for an answer. I just got done with the training when I ran into you."

"When is the match?"

"Right now, it looks like it's in two weeks. I'm supposed to get the US Title after Hell in a Cell this Sunday, convince John to reform the team on Smackdown, and take on JeriShow right after," he said, looking at her. Mickie winced slightly.

"That's a lot of stuff right off the bat," she said. Mike nodded, but didn't say anything. Mickie shifted the conversation.

"We haven't had a lot of time to talk... How are you feeling after the Draft?" she asked. They both knew she wasn't talking about the Draft itself, but what happened before it.

"Confused... frustrated. I'm tired of thinking about it, Mick," he admitted. He took a drink from his glass, shrugging it off. "But I think I'm starting to move on. I even have a sort of crush," he said. Mickie raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Who?"

"... Cena."

Mike and Mickie looked at each other as Mike made his admission. Mickie sighed softly, running a hand through her hair as the waitress dropped off their food.

"Thanks..." she told the girl. She walked away, and Mickie looked back at Mike.

"Mike... John is dating Randy," she said. Mike looked at her for a minute, before grabbing the ketchup bottle, turning it over and pouring it on the plate so he could dip his fries in it.

"It's not a big deal, Mickie," he muttered, paying more attention to his fries than anything else. "I said it was a sort of crush."

"Mike, I'm so sorry..." she whispered. Mike looked at her, forcing a convincing smile on his face.

"Nah, it's not your fault. I should have figured, what with the way those two push against each other in the ring," he said, a laugh escaping. Mickie fell for the act, and smiled, giggling too. But, she did change the subject.

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you!"

With that, the conversation eased into backstage drama, and some corporate drama. Since Mickie seemed to be good friends with Shane McMahon, she got to hear some good gossip about the McMahon family.

After lunch, the two said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Mickie had a photo shoot to get to, after all. As for Mike, he had nothing else to do. So, he drove to the hotel, deciding to linger in his thoughts. Once there, he dropped onto his bed, throwing his fedora on top of his bag.

_First John, now Cena... Will I ever be happy...?_

**TBC**

**AN**: There we go. I think that's a good place to stop for right now. I was listening to Simple Plan's Welcome to my Life during that end part, and I almost just typed out the lyrics for the end... They suit Mike's feelings pretty accurately right now. As for what happened between Mike and JoMo, I will probably have that in the next chapter. Yes, Cena and Randy are together, but they're going to be a side-focus of the fic, and probably not highlighted at all.

That's it for now.

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	3. His Eyes

**AN**: Ah! I just finished the first chapter of a huge surprise, and I'm praying that I can get either this fic or _Legends of Death_ wrapped up soon so that I can post it. But, I don't see this one ending anytime soon (I have a lot of plans), and _Legends of Death_ won't end until around Halloween... So I guess we're relying on _Legends Of Death_ before I show that. Anyway, time for me to shut up and continue, hm?

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindtheFacade**

"Welcome to Friday Night Smackdown! Todd Grisham here with WWE Hall of Famer, Good Ol' JR, Jim Ross, at ringside!"

The opening theme of Smackdown was playing over the speaker system in the arena, the fireworks had just gone off. The bell rang, signaling the beginning of the first match. Mike stretched out, loosening up his muscles as he listened to Kane's theme. Kane was supposed to fight someone... Mike really wanted to say Finlay. Ah, he was right. Finlay's theme started up as Mike fixed the black tie around his neck. This school boy-esque look he had been showcasing on RAW lately was the ring designer's idea, and he really liked it. He tugged the dark gray zip-up hoodie back over his shoulders and zipped it up a little higher, hiding more of the white shirt he wore beneath. It had black swirls around the bottom, almost like the fleur de lis design from France. He straightened his black jeans and then grabbed the United States Championship, tossing the belt over his shoulder. He had forgone his fedora for this look, and he almost missed it... Almost.

He stood in the doorway of the locker room, waiting for his cue to walk into the locker room to confront John about their tag team coming back together. He hadn't been told all the details, but he did know that later tonight, John was supposed to accept. Mike was pretty sure that Chris was going to call John out or something, but he couldn't be sure.

Mike smiled when Finlay's music hit again, signaling that he had won the match. Chances are it meant that Kane had ignored the ref and gotten himself disqualified, but still. The Fighting Irishman was actually a really good guy, and he'd even offered Mike some advice when they were rivals in ECW.

Mike Knox's music hit next, and Mike mentally went over what he was supposed to say to John. After this match, he was supposed to talk to John, who had just sat down on the bench the conversation was supposed to take place on. He was already in the red and black ring pants he was wearing tonight, and had his boots on, though they were unlaced. The Intercontinental Championship was sitting across his leg, and he wore his sunglasses. R-Truth's theme hit and he started rapping his own lyrics, something that could be heard loud and clear backstage.

About halfway through the match, at least that was what Mike estimated by the crowd, one of the crew came up.

"Almost ready?" he asked. Mike nodded, shifting the belt and taking a breath. The crew guy nodded, and Mike stood still, allowing him to straighten up whatever it was he thought needed it. He shifted the belt slightly and then went to John. John had laced up one of his boots during this time, and the crew guy talked quietly to John before he ran off again. R-Truth's theme hit as he won the match and then the camera guy pointed to Mike.

John was bent over, lacing up his boot, when he felt an added weight to the bench. He paused, lifting his head and seeing the blue eyed man next to him. He shook his head, returning to his boot.

"What do you want, Miz?" John asked. The fans booed loudly as the camera showed Mike, that usual Miz-smirk on his face.

"It's simple, John," Mike started. "We both know that we have the skill to be the greatest tag team ever. And, I don't know about you, but I'm sick of Chris Jericho talking trash on RAW. You've got to be sick of seeing Big Show's ugly mug around here on Smackdown."

John paused in lacing up his boot, considering what Mike proposed. He sat up, resting one arm on his leg as he looked at Mike.

"And...?"

"Well, we could bring back our tag team, and prove to them, that we are the Greatest Tag Team of the 21st Century!" Both Mike and John paused, looking to the side and up, reminiscent of The Dirt Sheet, before they looked back at each other. "What do you say, John?"

"Miz, I've already got a belt," he stated, bringing the Intercontinental Championship over his shoulder. Mike brought a hand over to showcase the United States Championship over his shoulder.

"So do I, John. So do I. But you know it'd feel great to have three belts. Just think about it and let me know."

With that, Mike stood up, walking out of the camera view, and out of the locker room. John pushed his sunglasses up, looking out after Mike thoughtfully.

**BehindtheFacade**

Chris sighed softly, looking up at Paul, who put one of the belts around his waist, the other resting over his shoulder. True to their fashion, the belt that was resting over Paul's shoulder was around Chris' waist and the one around Paul's waist was over Chris' shoulder.

"Ready to go, Show?" Chris asked. Show nodded and the two made their way to the curtain, waiting for the Divas to get up the ramp after their match. He nodded to Melina when she waved and Michelle merely gave him a glare when she walked through. Chris merely rolled his eyes at her, walking forward when their combined music hit.

The two made their way down the ramp before getting into the ring. Chris held one hand over the title on his shoulder as Show stood behind him, lifting both of his belts high above his head. After a minute of looking around, Chris moved, going to the side of the ring with the announcer's table and taking the mic that was offered. He went back to the center of the ring, glaring at the fans around him, slipping into character with ease.

"You gelatinous hypocrites think that we come out here to care whether or not you cheer for us? You're even stupider than I thought. But putting your idiocy aside, The Miz thinks that he actually has a chance to beat us for the Unified Tag Team Championships? He has to be the dumbest hypocrite in the industry. At least Morrison-" Chris had to pause here as the crowd cheered loudly for the Intercontinental Champion - "is smart enough to keep himself out of our way. Because, Morrison, if you were to join The Miz to reunite your little 'tag team', you'd become the same hypocritical tapeworm he and all these fans out here are. Furthermore..."

Chris was interrupted as music hit, and the titantron showed the swirling rainbow colors that stayed behind John Morrison's name in white. He came out, his red and black coat on, sunglasses covering his eyes, Intercontinental Championship over his shoulder, and a mic in his hand. He grinned, looking at the crowd before turning his focus back to Chris and Paul in the ring.

"Wow, Chris. You sure can talk a big game. But who is the one who keeps relying on Ol' Smokey there to get a win? You know what...? I think that you're the hypocrite here."

The arena was filled with cheers as John nodded and Chris looked outraged. He said something to Paul, his expression furious, but it wasn't picked up by the ring mics.

"And you know what else? The Miz and I may have had our differences at the Draft, but I'm sure we can put it aside to beat you and Big Show there for those Championships you're holding."

With that, John Morrison's music hit again, and he lifted the Intercontinental Championship over his head, lifting his fist up as well. He smirked down at them before making his way backstage, followed by a glowering Chris Jericho and Big Show.

**BehindtheFacade**

Mike sighed as he moved down the halls, unaware of the blond who followed him. His belt was put in the bag around his shoulder, and he just wanted to get in his car and go to the hotel and not think about this ever again. That last part wasn't going to come true, but still. The first two could.

"Mike! Mike, wait up!"

Mike groaned internally, turning around as Michelle McCool came running up. He was wondering if he would have to invent new names for her during the course of this conversation to keep himself amused... Michelle McDrool, Michelle McFreak...

"Yeah, what's up?" he asked.

"I saw RAW last week, when you got the title. Great job," she gushed. McTool, McGo-the-fuck-away...

"Yeah, thanks..."

"You know, I'm the first ever Diva's Champion, current Women's Champion, and only woman to ever hold both titles." McStupid was sounding pleasant...

"Actually, you're the first woman to hold both. Mickie has the Diva's Championship, remember? And she's a four-time Women's Champion." Michelle frowned.

"Well, there's that. But you know how it is. Champions have to forget the little people and move on." She placed one finger on the zipper of his sweatshirt and began to toy with it. McI'm-Gonna-Barf...

"Uh... Sure, whatever you say..."

"You know... I saw you and Maryse on RAW. Isn't she such a loser?" Mike blinked, frowning. McIdiot...

"Uhh... If by loser, you mean better than you because she did beat you for the Diva's Championship, remember?"

"Ugh, only because I was going easy on her that day. I was suffering from a major lack of sleep."

McWhore!

"Michelle, the only thing you're suffering from is long term stupidity," a voice from behind Michelle said. Mike groaned internally as he recognized the voice. Sure enough, Chris walked up a minute later, and Mike shifted the bag to the other shoulder.

"Oh, hi Chris," Michelle said, her lips drawn tight.

"Go the hell away, Michelle. Mike's not into whores."

Michelle's eyes flashed and she stormed off. Mike watched her go and faced Chris wearily. Before he could offer the expected thanks, Chris spoke.

"And you. What the hell are you hiding?"

Mike froze. What was he hiding?

"Where the fuck do you get off, Jericho?" Mike hissed, blue eyes blazing as The Miz surged forward with full force. "You're talking about me hiding something, yet you're too busy hiding behind Paul to actually face anyone."

Yeah, it wasn't the same thing, and Mike knew that, but it was the only thing he could think to fire back.

"Please, it's not the same thing, and you know it," Chris shot back. "You're the one who puts up this mask so that everyone can be pushed away and you don't have to expose the real you to everyone. Are you really that much of a coward that you are afraid someone may actually like you for you instead of this character? I mean, honestly, Mike! You could be so much mo-"

Chris was going to keep going, but was cut off by Mike's fist colliding with his cheek. Chris stumbled over to the side and was about ready to rear back and hit him back when he saw Mike's eyes. It wasn't the fury blazing sapphire in those blue depths, but the ice color of pain hidden within. Before Chris could say anything else, Mike was running down the hall to the parking lot. Chris put his hand over his aching jaw and watched Mike curiously. He was going to have to get to the bottom of this, and fast...

**TBC**

**AN**: Yay me. Yay updates. To clear any confusion up: The Miz is almost like another personality, the one that Mike uses to cover up his other emotions. Mike is the tired and sad guy that's been in this story thus far. Oooh, looks like Chris hit a sore spot, huh? I hate it when that happens. Review, darlings!

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	4. Reasons

**AN**: I'm sooooo sorry this took so long to get up, everyone. My favorite aunt/uncle/cousins moved down here (FL) from North Carolina, and I haven't seem them in forever, so I spent some time with them. I'm still spending a whole shitload of time over there, so updates will be coming slower than usual, but I haven't forgotten about all of ya, I promise.

I spent a lot of time wondering wtf I was going to put in this chapter, and this one wouldn't have been up with the others even if I had updated sooner. I hit a wall, but I got over it. So, here's the next chapter, and I'm shutting up now.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

_Mike sat in the hotel room, wearing only a pair of shorts. His fedora was on his knee, his shirt over on the bed. He just didn't feel like putting them on yet. His phone was in his hands, and he was watching the Twitter updates come up, raising an eyebrow and grinning at some of them. People responded to his tweets a lot more than he thought they did. He read every single one, just didn't have time to reply to them all. He made a mental note to get back to his loyal Mizfits soon._

_The hotel room's door lock clicked as the key card was slid through, and he looked up, smiling as the form of his tag team partner and lover, John Morrison, made its way into the room. He put his fedora aside, dropped his phone into his pocket and stood. John frowned as he looked at Mike. The smile fell from Mike's face, and a confused look took its place._

_"John...?"_

_"Shut up."_

_The cold tone of John's voice made Mike blink in surprise, shock registering on his features. He did what John said, however, and stayed silent._

_"I can't believe I was stupid enough to partner with you. I can't believe I was stupid enough to __**sleep**__ with you. How many other guys have you lured into your trap, Mike? Huh? Four, five?"_

_As John spoke, Mike stared at him in surprise, blue eyes swirling in confusion and hurt at the words coming out of his mouth._

_"John, I-"_

_"I said shut up!" With that loudly barked statement, John shoved Mike backwards, hard, onto the bed. Mike very nearly knocked his head on the sharp corner of the nightstand between the two beds. He stared up at John in a mixture of confusion, hurt, fear, and shock. "You never loved me! You lied to me, Mike! I'm not going to sit here and let a little fucking whore keep my bed warm. I want you to pack up your shit and get your own fucking room by the time I get back, or I'm throwing you out the window."_

_With that said, John stormed out of the room, slamming it as he left. Mike stared at the door in shock before the tears started. He managed to stand himself up, moving over to the window, looking out it to the busy street below. They were on the tenth floor. That kind of a fall could really kill him... Did he want to die? He started to lean forward on the windowsill, but then moved away, sobs shaking his body as he packed up his stuff and put it in a bag. He left the key card on the nightstand, and walked out, making his way to Mickie's room. He knocked on the door, and a blond head came up, wearing a soft, white robe. Mike sniffed, rubbing his eyes._

_"Beth... I'm sorry... Is Mickie...?"_

_Before Mike could get the next part of the question out, Mickie came up behind Beth, wearing a long t-shirt. She saw him and immediately pulled him into the room, smiling up at Beth as the blond moved out of the way and grabbed the bag Mike had dropped. Mickie put her arms around him as he sobbed and explained what happened into her shoulder._

Mike jolted up in bed, throwing the blankets he had kicked off of his frame onto the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, bringing it down to his face, surprised to see the tears were there again. He growled in frustration, but stayed put on the bed. He looked out the window of the hotel room he was in, seeing the bright crescent of the moon. That night, Mickie had held Mike as he cried, and Beth made him a pot of coffee and was another form of quiet support. The Glamazon and Mickie had been dating for only a short amount of time, but Beth offered to give up her bed to sleep with Mickie so that Mike could stay with them. Surprisingly, the blond was a lot nicer than her very convincing on-screen character.

Mike got up, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep with the harsh words John had thrown like daggers, still in his mind. He moved to the shower, starting a warm spray, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Mike never got to ask where John had been that night, but wherever he was, he was convinced that Mike had been sleeping with other people. It wasn't true. Mike flirted, sure, but it was harmless, and he had loved John.

_Whore... I'm throwing you out the window..._

Mike closed his eyes, wincing at the pain he still felt in his heart at the words John had pierced him with. The Guru of Greatness may be a nice guy to everyone, but he had a temper, and he knew how to make his words like daggers.

_Are you really that much of a coward that you are afraid someone may actually like you for you instead of this character?_

Mike blinked as Chris Jericho's words came back into his head. He watched the steam fill the mirror, slowly covering the clear image of him with fog. Was he a coward? The answer came immediately, and Mike didn't like it.

Mike was a coward. The Miz, however, was brave, strong, and put up with no one's shit.

As his image disappeared from sight thanks to the fog, leaving only a mixture of colors, Mike sighed softly. He could fix this, but not in a way he wanted to. It was time for Mike to be locked away in the deep recesses of his own heart. Mike closed his eyes, keeping them closed until he felt the pain and the fears melt away, leaving only the arrogant smirk of The Miz on his face.

**BehindTheFacade**

"In a world full of winners and losers, two men have risen above to bring you the Slammy Award Winning show... The Dirt Sheet! And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the stars of The Dirt Sheet. From Monday Night Raw... The United States Champion, The Miz!"

The guitar solo played and Miz walked out onto the stage, holding up the United States Championship belt and kissing it, before he bent at the waist and raised it above his head. With the usual cocky smirk, he made his way down to the ring. He wore a pair of blue jeans, Converse, and a long sleeve white shirt with a black vest and tie. He got into the ring, sitting in the director's chair on the red half of the ring, and putting the US Championship over his shoulder.

"And from Smackdown, he is the Intercontinental Championship, John Morrison!"

John Morrison's theme started as he walked out to the stage. The fan started, blowing John's hair back as he raised his fist in the air. He grinned, flipping the Intercontinental Championship over his shoulder and making his way down the ramp. He wore his new t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and his usual sunglasses over his eyes. He made his way down to the ramp, sitting in the chair on the blue half of the ring. Last week, the two had tried The Dirt Sheet, and ended up insulting one another (which led to that stupid match against Marty for Miz on Raw, but still) rather than JeriShow. So, they were being given another chance.

"Hi. I'm John Morrison, and at Bragging Rights, I'm going to have three belts instead of one."

The crowd cheered and Miz rolled his eyes, leaning back as the crowed cheered for Morrison. Miz looked around, watching the crowd the best he could through the spot lights.

"And I'm your United States Champion, The Miz."

In return, the crowd jeered at Miz, but he didn't care. He didn't care about much lately...

"Miz, last week we got off to a bad start," John stated. Miz looked over at him, shaking his head, before John continued. "So, I think this week, we need to work on doing what we do best. After all, this is The Dirt Sheet."

The crowd cheered again, and Miz shifted, pointing to the titantron.

"You mean, cutting down losers like these two?"

As Miz finished speaking, an image popped up on the screen of Chris Jericho and the Big Show. The crowd erupted into boos and John grinned.

"Exactly, Miz. I mean... We've got the Big Show, from Raw. The World's Biggest Athlete. I think it'd be more accurate to call him The World's Biggest Producer of Sweat. I mean, every time he's in the ring, he drips more water than Niagra Falls."

An image of Big Show came up alone, though this time, he had sweat dripping down his face, and Niagra Falls in the background. The crowd laughed and cheered.

"And then there's Chris Jericho."

Miz paused as the crowd began to boo and jeer Jericho.

"The guy claims to be the best in the world at what he does. Then he must be the best loser in the world, because that's all he does. Lose."

A red stamp dropped onto Jericho's face on the titantron, forming out the word LOSER. John grinned again and raised the mic to his lips to say something else, when the combined music of JeriShow went off. He put the mic down and both members of Be Jealous looked at the stage.

Chris came out in a dark blue Armani suit, a black shirt underneath with a blue tie. Show wore a black suit with a white shirt and a red tie. They both made their way down to the ring, the house lights coming back on to illuminate the entire ring. Neither Miz of John had moved from their seats. Chris raised the mic to his lips, but Miz spoke first.

"Alright, John, you were right. Talking about losers really does make them appear."

Chris' eyes narrowed as he stayed in character, though that wasn't scripted, and Chris very nearly broke character for the first time ever and started laughing. Show raised an eyebrow, but didn't move.

"You hypocrite. You claim that I've been doing nothing but losing lately? Then how come I am still one half of the Unified Tag Team Champions? And how many times, Miz, did you have to face Kofi Kingston before you got the title?"

Miz's eyes flashed as Chris spoke. Here, Show was supposed to get the mic to say something to John, but Miz merely smirked, his blue eyes flashing at Chris.

"You keep a hold of those belts only because Big Stool over here is your personal lap dog." The crowed roared with laughter as Show's face turned red. Miz leaned over to look at Show. "Does he give you the table scraps, or are you allowed to actually eat with everyone else?"

John looked at Miz behind the sunglasses, concern written on his features. Vince hated people going off script, and Miz just threw the entire script out the window. Chris was wondering the same thing, but he wasn't about to break character. He tried to place where they should be in the script.

"You're obviously wanting a fight, but I'm not going to give it to you, Miz," Chris stated, smirking at him. Show and John looked at each other. There was obviously something going on between their respective tag team partners, but neither had an idea of what it was. "But I'm not giving it to you. You'll get your chance at Bragging Rights." Miz stood up, getting nose-to-nose with Chris, his eyes condemning the other blond.

"I look forward to kicking your ass all over Pennsylvania."

Instead of the JeriShow theme hitting, the former Be Jealous theme music hit. Chris glared and the two left the ring, followed shortly by Miz and John.

**TBC**

**AN**: That's all for now. I had something I wanted to do, but Miz taking over The Dirt Sheet with Chris kind of ruined that for me. He's so angry. While this chapter may be short, it has a lot as far as substance goes. Yes, that's why Mike is so depressed (the dream sequence), and I'll... probably go into detail as to why John just up and called him a whore eventually. I will try to get the next chapters of _Legends of Death_ and _Steamin' Up the Place_ up soon, I promise! Expect them some time this weekend.

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	5. Plans

**AN**: Yeeeup! Time for an update here too. I debated on what to do with this chapter, because last chapter was… interesting, but I found out! And, you'll get to see some of Mike's other friends. Also, I know that Smackdown is taped, and then aired on Friday, but in my story, it's like RAW: shown as it happens. Okay? Okay. So, now I'll shut up.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

Later that night, Miz was ordered into Vince's office. He dressed to reflect his mood, a pair of black jeans, a black shirt with a red heart in the center, and a pair of black shoes. The heart had a pair of wings coming out the back and gray barbed wire all the way around the heart and wings. On the wings were drops of red, resembling blood. He walked into the office, rolling his eyes as he saw three other bodies there.

John Morrison was sitting in a chair already, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a white jacket. Under the jacket was a black shirt, but Miz couldn't see what was on it. Chris sat in the chair next to John, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt advertising an Ozzy Osbourne tour. Miz couldn't roll his eyes at the outfit… He had the same shirt in his bag. Paul was standing against the wall, wearing a suit of some kind. Apparently, he had a meeting to go to after this…? Miz didn't know, and he didn't really give a shit either.

"Either sit down or stand up, but close the door and keep your mouth shut, Mizanin," Vince snapped from the other side of the desk. Miz sighed and kicked the door shut, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall.

"Smackdown tonight was not what I wanted. The introduction was fine, then Mizanin, you started to get brave. What? Do you think you don't have to stick to the script like everyone else?" Vince's expression was furious, but Miz just looked at him, one eyebrow raised, his eyes showing he really didn't care. Vince wasn't expecting an answer anyway, so he continued on.

"However, the obvious chemistry on camera between you two," here he paused to point first to Miz, then to Chris, "gave me an idea. As punishment for breaking script last night, JeriShow is keeping the Unified Tag Team Titles at Bragging Rights." John voiced a protest, and Miz merely sighed in frustration. Chris and Paul, however, merely nodded.

"But… You two aren't going to have it for long. The on-screen chemistry between Miz and Chris gave me this idea: Paul, you'll confront Chris about being sick of appearing to be nothing more than his lap dog. You're going to make it seem like Mike's words from tonight really struck a cord to you. So, after you do your thing with Team RAW at Bragging Rights, you'll confront Chris on RAW and tell him that you don't want to be the Unified Tag Team Champions with him anymore. Chris, you'll claim that you saw this coming, so you went ahead and got a new tag team partner." When Vince paused, Paul spoke.

"Why would I give it up, just because Mike made me think about whether or not I was Chris' lackey?" Paul asked. Miz's eyes moved over to him, but then looked back at Vince. This seemed like it was more a meeting for JeriShow than for Be Jealous. Why the hell were they there?

"Because you'll be so confident you'll get the World Heavyweight Championship from the Undertaker that it won't matter anymore. Insult the belts if you want. I really don't give a shit." Paul nodded, and John spoke.

"With all due respect, Mr. McMahon, what does this have to do with me and Mike?" John asked. Vince's eyes moved over to them. Apparently John had been thinking the same thing. Bastard.

"Well, Chris will have had a clause added to his contract saying that if Paul decided to drop the Tag Team belts, that he could pick another tag team partner of his choice from any show. Once again, you'll leave it a mystery. John, I want the past to catch up to you and Mike. There may be a Champion vs. Champion match at Survivor Series, but I haven't decided yet. You'll either show up on RAW to confront him, or he'll show up on Smackdown with an idea, and you can say that the partnership is over and you should have known better than to team up with him again. Mike will look confused, maybe upset, then look angry. If I decide to put in a Champion v Champion match, I'll let you know how that will happen. Are we understood?" Vince asked. Miz nodded, as did John and Paul.

"Who's my new partner going to be?" Chris asked. Vince smirked.

"Mike 'The Miz' Mizanin."

Miz raised an eyebrow and looked at Chris at the same time the blond looked at him. The two stared at each other before Miz rolled his eyes, looking away. Chris looked back at Vince and then nodded.

"But he won't come out until the match at Survivor Series?" Chris asked. Vince nodded.

"Smackdown and Raw will be having some Number One Contender matches. Whoever wins on RAW will go up with the winner from Smackdown. The winner of that match will go up against Kozlov and Jackson from ECW. The winner of that match will be your opponents at Survivor Series," Vince explained. Paul chuckled softly.

"ECW getting antsy for some more gold?" he asked. Vince laughed and shrugged.

"Hell, I don't know. I'm just doing it to keep Tiffany from getting too angry. She may be a nice-looking woman, but she can get pretty nasty when she's angry. Now, get the hell out of my office, all of you."

With Vince's clear dismissal, they left. Chris and Paul walked away together, discussing how they wanted the breaking of their tag team to go after Bragging Rights, and Miz pulled out his phone, aiming to call someone, when the arm holding his phone was grabbed. He lifted his eyes, meeting the face of John. Immediately, his eyes narrowed.

"Let me go, Hennigan," he ordered softly. John shook his head, his signature sunglasses on his head.

"Not yet, Mike. We have to talk about what happened… Before the Draft, I mean," he said. Miz looked at him, a smirk on his face.

"What? You don't want to talk about how the _whore_ managed to hit you with a Reality Check, John? How the Marty Jannetty of the tag team had you face first on the mat?" he sneered. John winced slightly, but shook it off.

"No. Look, I didn't mean what I said then. I was just…"

"Just what, John? Just upset because you believed what someone else said about me over what I would have told you? Upset because you believed that I was a whore who deserved to die, because I was apparently fucking every guy that walked through the door? No, John. _You _were my first, and you _were_ my only. Oh, and in case you think I'm _still_ a whore, you still are my only. Now, fuck you. I have other things to do than sit here and listen to you try to lie about why you said what you said. No matter what you say, you believed the bullshit, and that won't change."

With that said, Miz turned around, jerking his arm loose and walking away, leaving John standing there, staring after him in shock. John shook his head, sighing softly. The sweet, loving Mike was gone, and in his place was the angry, sarcastic Miz who was protecting Mike from the harsh reality of the world. He turned and began to walk to his car.

What neither Miz nor John realized was that Chris had come back at that time to grab the jacket he had left in Vince's office, and had heard the entire thing. He knew he shouldn't have been listening, but it was hard not to hear it. He pondered what he had just heard as he walked back into Vince's office.

Miz pushed the call button on his phone as he hit the number, putting the phone to his ear and listening.

"Hey Mike! What's up?"

Mickie's voice came loud and clear through the phone, causing Miz to smile slightly.

"Hey, Mick. Just got done getting chewed out by Vince. And you?"

"Ouch. I hate it when he does that unhappy dad act," she said. "I'm hanging out with Beth."

"It was more pissed off boss this time. I'll leave you alone. I was going to ask if you wanted to come out for drinks to hear the whole story, but you hang with Beth."

"Thanks Mike. Let's take a rain check on this one, and I'll pay next time." Miz laughed softly.

"Sure thing. Bye Mickie."

"Seeya, Mike." Miz hung up and looked at the phone before shaking his head and walking out to the car. Once he got you into the driver's seat of the car, he looked back at his phone and dialed a number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jack. You free for a couple drinks?" Miz asked, starting up the car and buckling his seatbelt.

"Yeah, Mikey. Always. You mind if Evan comes along?"

"Nah, bring him too. Meet me at the club next to the hotel in fifteen, kay?"

"You got it."

The two hung up and Miz felt a little better as he pulled out of the arena parking lot, his headlights on.

**BehindTheFacade**

About fifteen minutes later, Miz pulled into an empty parking spot at the club, and climbed out, pulling on his reversible black and gray jacket, zipping it up. He walked up to the bouncer at the door, bypassing the line. With one quick glance over the United States Champion, the bouncer nodded to him and let Miz in. Miz really didn't know how he always got away with that. Maybe the bouncers watched wrestling and knew there was some reality to it all… Either way, he didn't care. It got him in and he didn't have to wait.

Ignoring the writing and gyrating bodies on the dance floor, Miz made his way to the bar, where he saw a tall blond and smaller dark haired man talking. He walked up, standing behind the blond for a minute. The blond had platinum blond hair that was spiked up, and wore a pair of blue jeans with a long-sleeve white button-up shirt. The dark haired man in front of him wore a pair of black jeans with a navy blue hoodie.

"Mike!" the dark haired man announced. The blond turned slightly, grinning behind him at Miz.

"What's up, Mikey?" he asked. Miz hugged them both before he sat down on the other side of the blond.

"Hey Evan, Jack. Not a thing, now that Vince got done biting my head off because of The Dirt Sheet," Miz said. Evan frowned and looked at him, his head tilted.

"What happened?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice. Jack gently squeezed his hand under the bar, and Miz pretended he didn't it.

"He got pissed off that I didn't follow script, and said something about how Chris and I had a natural chemistry. We're not getting the belts at Bragging Rights," Miz said, ordering a Heineken when the bartender stopped.

"I'm sorry, Mike," Evan said. Miz shrugged.

"Eh, whatever. At least I didn't get fired."

"What's it like being with Hennigan again?" Jack asked. Miz sat there and stared at the bright green bottle once the bartender brought it over. Evan smacked Jack's shoulder, frowning at the larger man.

"Awkward," Miz replied. "I still hate what he did to me, and I hate that I feel so useless to change it. But, what the hell ever. He tried to explain himself today." Evan's eyes got the size of basketballs.

"What'd he say?!"

As Miz explained to Evan and Jack what happened, he thought over their relationship. The two had been together on ECW, shortly after they joined the WWE. They weren't overly open about their relationship, even happily being rivals in the ring. There relationship was a slight touch now and then, and sharing a room. Miz had originally thought it was because Evan was shy, but the young high-flyer had informed Miz that he really didn't mind how open they were about their relationship. It was Jack who didn't want it to be too public. Evan had said that Jack insisted on it because he didn't want people to think that Evan was a whore or anything like that. It was sweet, really, and proved that Jack did have a softer side.

"Ooh, that asshole!" Evan fumed, frowning as he downed another drink of his own beer. Jack and Miz exchanged amused looks before Miz shook his head.

"It's really not that big a deal," Miz said, shrugging. "In nine days, we demolish our tag team and I never have to hear about him again."

"So, what is the line up for Bragging Rights on Sunday?" Jack asked, wanting to change the subject. "I mean, I know the Smackdown vs. Raw match is going to happen before the Iron Man Match between Orton and Cena, but what's the actual order?"

"If I remember right, it's Be Jealous vs. JeriShow for the Unified Tag Team Titles, the Diva vs. Diva match, World Heavyweight Fatal Four Way, then Smackdown vs. Raw and then Iron Man," Miz said. Jack nodded.

"That's weird, isn't it? The title matches are the ones that aren't for their brand. That means that if the Smackdown Divas win, and team Raw wins, the shows will be tied…" Evan pointed out. Miz shrugged.

"Then ECW's better and we're all getting fired."

The trio laughed and change the subject away from work, more than happy to talk about football, new TV shows, and even a friendly argument about which beer was better.

**TBC**

**AN**: Not the longest update in the world, but good enough, I believe. Yeah, I changed the line up slightly, but the only thing that really changed was that the Champion vs. Champion match was replaced with the Unified Tag Team Title match. I'm not changing the actual results of Bragging Rights either, meaning Smackdown will win the brand vs. brand match and the Smackdown Divas win their match too. It was tempting to change it, but I don't want to try to figure out what the hell to put for that. So! There it is! Bye.

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	6. Loss

**AN**: I didn't have this one as planned (or planned at all) as I did the others, so bare with me. If it sucks, feel free to tell me so, and I so apologize. If it sucks too bad, I'll take it down and re-write it. Guys, Daylight Savings is really messing with me. It feels like a Wedensday, at like... 10 PM, and I know it's not. Anywho... (BTW: As of right now, its 7:45.) Also, for the sake of the story, JR is still a commentor, okay? Thanks.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindtheFacade**

Bragging Rights was here. Miz stretched, rolling his shoulders and getting himself prepared for it all. The pre-matches were going on, and the crowd was screaming in joy. Miz mentally went over the basics of the script. The challengers went out first, and since they were going through a rocky partnership right now, they went out separate. Everyone's favorite champion went out first, then Miz. They were supposed to sit in the ring and act buddy buddy before the JeriShow music would hit and the match would start. Miz sighed softly, ruffling up his hair and standing up, throwing his title over his shoulder. As he went to open his door, a knock sounded. He paused for a minute, staring at it, willing whoever it was to leave him the hell alone, when he heard voices.

"Do you think he's still in there?" asked the first one. Miz tilted his head and realized it was Jack.

"Of course he's in there, you oaf," snapped the second one. That one was Beth. She always got really bitchy before she went in the ring or on camera because it helped her keep in character.

"Stop it you two. We want to wish him luck, not piss him off!" the a third voice reasoned. Evan. Miz sighed and opened the door, looking at the three. Evan wore a pair of blue jeans and an Air Bourne shirt, since he wasn't supposed to be in the ring. Beth wore her new blue ring gear, and Jack was wearing the red WWE RAW shirt over his usual black and red ring gear. They took a minute to look at Miz in his red ring gear, before Beth smiled.

"Mickie and I know how you've been pissed thanks to having to team with Morrison again, so she wanted me to come and make sure you were alright. She also said that if you out show Morrison tonight, without over-selling it, she'll turn drinks into dinner," Beth said. Miz shook his head, shrugging as he twisted the black mouth guard in his hand over his fingers.

"Alright, Beth. Thanks," he said, his voice calm and unemotional. Beth shrugged it off. Mickie had told her that was how Miz got before a match. Evan smiled and nudged Jack, who shifted.

"I know. Look, RAW's gonna kick some ass tonight, but it'd be great if you wore out Jericho. That pompous bastard needs to go down a notch or two... Then again, so does Show, but he's on our team, so be easy on him," Jack said. Miz smirked slightly, but nodded, and Beth rolled her eyes.

"Alright, but I gotta go," Miz stated. Jack nodded and moved out of the way, pulling Evan to him. Beth moved too, watching as Miz walked away, pushing the mouthguard in his mouth, raising his upper lip so that it revealed the white letters that spelled out AWESOME on the black piece.

**BehindtheFacade**

"The following tag team match is scheduled for one-fall, and is for the Unified Tag Team Championships!!"

As Justin Roberts finished speaking, the guitar riff shot through the speaker system in the arena and cries went up from the crowd. Miz walked out, holding his United States Championship belt in his hand, which he turned his head to and kissed before bending at the waist and raising it above his head.

"Introducing first, the challengers. Making his way to the ring, from Cleveland, Ohio, weighing in at two hundred and thirty-one pounds, he is your United States Champion... The Miz!"

Miz made his way down to the ring, jumping up to the apron and kneeling down on one knee, holding his arm out with the belt. He gave his usual Miz-smirk before climbing into the ring and showing himself off a little more.

"_Now listen, this ain't no make believe!_"

Miz's eyes turned to look at the man making his way onto the corner of the stage now, wearing a black, white, and gray coat around his torso.

"And his partner, from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at two hundred and twenty-three pounds, he is the Intercontinental Champion... John Morrison!"

Miz watched as Morrison did his thing, holding his arms out and the belt up, as the slow-mo kicked in, and his hair and fur on his jacket was blown back. He made his way to the ring, getting in and watching Miz for a few minutes. He jumped off the ropes and they handed the belts over, moving their lips for the camera's sake, but not saying anything. Miz walked away after the belts were handed over and John pulled off his jacket and sunglasses, handing them to the person too. They stood close to each other, no longer even pretending not to talk to one another.

"_Well - Break the walls down - it's a Big Show..._"

Miz felt his eyes narrow even more as the music struck, and he saw the two of them come out. Their opponents. The way his lip curled up wasn't even fake at all. He watched the two of them walk down the ramp and climb in the ring.

"And their opponents, weighing in at a combined weight of over 700 pounds, they are the Unified Tag Team Champions... Chris Jericho and the Big Show!"

Justin Roberts got out of the ring and sat down in the small area he was supposed to. He knew what the result was supposed to be, so he could really ignore the match until the bell rang again if he wanted to. JeriShow handed over their belts, and Miz and Morrison chatted a moment to decide who was first. Miz climbed out of the ring and Chris stayed in with Morrison. The bell rang, and the match began.

**BehindtheFacade**

As the match progressed, it looked like it wouldn't end. Miz swore he could hear JR and Jerry talking about how this match was going to exhaust Chris and Paul, who had to fight in the big seven-on-seven tag match tonight for their respective brands. Miz was tagged in to fight against Big Show, which allowed him to work on that head lock that they had practiced. It actually worked out pretty well. Either way, Show stood up, and dropped him like a damn sack of potatoes. A drop from that height was killer on your back...

Miz managed to bring his elbow up as Paul went for the cover and Paul stood up, tagging Chris in. Chris grabbed Miz's ankles and started to twist his body around, putting him in the Walls of Jericho, when he caught a glimpse of Miz's eyes. The shield he had been wearing dropped for a half second, but just long enough for Chris to see the hurt, scared, and ashamed young man lingering within them. That second's hesitation allowed Miz to fling Chris away with his legs, and allowed him to get the tag to Morrison. Morrison started to go for Starship Pain, but Chris pulled him off the rope at the last second, slamming his knees into Morrison's back in a Codebreaker. Morrison dropped to the mat, and laid still as Chris covered him. The ref smacked the mat three times in quick succession, and then called for the bell.

"And your winners and still the Unified Tag Team Champions, Chris Jericho and the Big Show!"

Their combined music hit again, and JeriShow headed backstage with their belts. Miz glared at Morrison, and snatched his belt when it was offered, wiping his feet by Morrison's head before rolling out of the ring and backstage. Morrison got up and followed after, but everyone was already preparing to watch the Divas fight it out in the Brand vs. Brand Diva Match.

Backstage, Chris waited for Miz, frowning when he saw him storm backstage, ignoring Beth as she tried to tell Miz good job. He wasn't mad about the loss... But something in that ring had serious pissed off the Demon of Desire. Chris followed Miz to his dressing room, stopping outside and knocking on the door.

"Get the fuck away from me," Miz said, his voice soft. Chris wondered if he was expecting someone else... Not only that, but Chris wasn't exactly one to stop just because someone asked. So, he knocked again. This time, however, he got a very different response.

"John, I said get the fuck _away from me_!"

Miz flung open the door, a towel around his neck, his boots and knee guards off. Chris raised an eyebrow, and Miz immediately blinked, then his eyes hardened.

"What the hell do you want, Jericho?" Miz asked.

"Well, if we're going to be tag team partners, I think we need to get together and talk a little. I don't care what happened to make you hate John, and I don't care what you want to do with him. But, you're going to be my partner, we're going to need to get along. You and Morrison sold it tonight only because you two can't stand each other outside the ring. As far as we go, we're supposed to be able to get along in the ring, though our egos are supposed to clash. So, would you like to go out for drinks after the show?"

Miz stared at Chris throughout his speech, and couldn't deny the truth to his words. He looked down, thinking it over. It... It couldn't really hurt... to let someone in.

_It can't hurt?! Look what happened when you let Morrison in!_ snapped the Miz. Outwardly, Mike winced.

_But... I don't want to let him that far inside... _Mike protested, and grimaced. Even in his head, his voice sounded weak to his own ears.

_Give them an inch, they'll take a mile_...

"Mike?"

Miz snapped out of it, looking up at Chris.

"Fine. A few drinks, and that's only if Smackdown wins. It doesn't matter anyway. Raw's going to kick your ass." Miz then slammed the door in Chris' face. Chris grinned and turned, going to clean up a little before his next match. Neither team knew who Vince would have wanted to win, so it was up to the teams to do their thing. Chris was, of course, curious about how Paul was going to get his chance against Taker, but it was none of Chris' business. He smirked again as he pushed his door open and sat down, still grinning as it closed.

**TBC**

**AN**: There it is! Finished in between RAW tonight, and posted during/after the Kofi v Randy match. Not saying anything else tonight about the match. It's starting!!! BYE!

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	7. Miztake

**AN**: Alright. Time to crack down and stop letting my procrastination get the best of me. This chapter is probably going to be short, but I'm doing the best I can. Also, I'm dying for some new music. If you girls and/or guys know any awesome singers or bands that you wanna recommend, please, do it. I need some new muse music. And, that's all, I guess. Let's move it along now.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

Miz sighed as he changed clothes and kept the TV on. He was watching in between changing, often pausing with various articles of clothing missing when a match got pretty good. He was awed by Beth's ability to work with Michelle, whom she absolutely hated. Then again, with the way Michelle had been personally attacking Mickie's character and appearance, Miz wasn't surprised that Beth was feeling protective. Miz guessed that Beth could put her differences aside to show that Smackdown was the superior brand.

Miz pulled on a pair of blue jeans, designer brand, and pulled on a long-sleeve white shirt. He grabbed the black jacket he was going to be wearing over it, a gray paint design that resembled a paint splatter covering the jacket. He zipped it up, leaving the shirt untucked from his pants as he grabbed the black fedora with gray pinstripes. He had been feeling very strange without it lately, so he had intentionally packed it. He watched as Beth dropped the RAW diva and couldn't help but cheer. He actually sat down and paid little attention to the World Heavyweight Championship match, just managing to catch the Undertaker pinning Batista for the win. When Batista took the mic afterward, Miz paid attention. Batista didn't usually feel like he needed to run at the mouth...

Miz watched in shocked silence as Batista proceeded to obliterate Rey, attacking him with a rage Miz didn't know he had. Morbidly, Miz pictured himself going after John Morrison like that, causing him to miss the beginning of the Raw vs Smackdown match. He finally started paying attention, his attention mostly on Jack Swagger. The man was one of his best friends, after all. It was great that he had the opportunity to get in a match of this caliber.

Then, the most interesting thing happened. Kofi climbed up the turnbuckle, and Show walked toward him. Everyone assumed it was to help, but when Show wrapped one thick hand around Kofi's neck. Miz's eyes widened and he winced as Show slammed Kofi down to the ground. Then, Miz watched in a strange mixture of grudging admiration and rage as Chris moved over, throwing an arm over Kofi. The ref slapped the mat in a one, two, three, and called for the bell. The Big Show betrayed Team Raw to get a chance at the World Heavyweight Championship against the Undertaker. Miz sighed in frustration as he watched Team Smackdown invade the ring and Chris Jericho held up the Bragging Rights trophy in triumph. Miz moved to turn off the TV before he had to hear Justin Roberts announce that Smackdown had won. However, as his finger was poised over the power button, he saw Chris Jericho smirk at the camera. Somehow, he knew that the smirk the Team Smackdown co-captain wore was for his benefit. Feeling a bit childish, and knowing that Chris couldn't see him, Miz flipped him off before turning off the television. Well, it looked like he'd be joining Y2J for drinks after all. Damn Big Show and his conniving ways...

Miz grabbed his bag, jogging out to his rental and throwing it in the trunk, his United States Championship belt hidden under clothes and other things no one really wanted to touch. Then, at a much slower pace, he walked back toward the arena, managing to get in there in time for the first point of the Iron Man Match. After finding out that Randy and Cena were dating, Miz found that he really didn't want to watch the match. He leaned against the wall, in a place that was pretty public, ignoring the people walking by. Well, the area he was in was public for the Superstars, he reminded himself. They were kept hidden from the people in attendance, but still.

About ten minutes later, which Miz spent playing bowling on his phone, Chris walked up, holding the Bragging Rights Trophy in one hand, his duffel bag in the other. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a blue button up, the top three buttons undone, the shirt untucked. It was a sloppy sort of casual look that Miz had to admit looked good on him.

"Guess we're going out for drinks, huh?" Chris said, not rubbing his victory in Miz's face. It was probably a good thing, because Miz would have happily reverted to the earlier days and given Chris a Reality Check.

"I guess so," Miz said, sighing. He looked at the trophy with a wince. "Are you going to carry that thing around everywhere?" he asked. Chris blinked and looked at the trophy with a grin.

"Nah. I was going to stuff it in my trunk with everything else. No point in lugging the thing around," Chris said. Miz nodded and started to walk out with Chris. However, before they got too far, a rather large person blocked their way. He wore the same DX gear he wore in the ring, his dirty blond hair hanging in his face.

"You," he growled. Miz paused and stopped, watching as a furious Hunter Hearst Helmsley stared at Chris. Well, stared was putting it nicely, and glared was even putting it nicely. Miz figured that if looks could kill, Chris would be one half of a Unified Tag Team smore. That was assuming that Paul would be a smore too. It was an interesting thought.

"What do you want, Hunter?" Chris said, clearly not showing any fear around the King of Kings. Hunter stepped forward, getting right in Chris' face.

"If I find out you had anything to do with that betrayal, I'll fucking kill you," Hunter growled. Chris took a step back, putting a hand up.

"First, Hunter, a Tic-Tac would do you wonders." Miz let out an awkward cough here, but Hunter didn't pay him any mind. "Second, I had nothing to do with that. I can't control Paul anymore than you control Shawn. And third, I'd like to see you try."

The two stared each other down for a minute before Chris rolled his eyes.

"Besides, it's just a formality. RAW gets more ratings anyway. C'mon, Mike. Let's get out of here."

With that said, it was like a spell was broken. Hunter's eyes moved over to Miz, narrowing on him. Miz sighed to himself.

_Here we go_... he thought.

"You... What the fuck are you doing? He screwed you out of your title shot, and now you're going to whore yourself out for the enemy?"

Miz fought the flashbacks, though John's words came back to him.

_Whore... I'm throwing you out the window... You never loved me_.

Before the flashbacks could overrule the Soldier of Seduction, he came back, growling at Hunter with a snarl of his own.

"Fuck you, Helmsley. Don't get pissy at me just because Show fucked you over. He didn't cost me the titles, I did it to myself. And I don't whore myself out to the enemy, unlike some people," Miz snapped back. Hunter got into his face.

"Gonna turn your back on Raw too?"

"No, but my loyalty was never at risk."

"Oh, I'm beginning to doubt it." The Game looked at Chris pointedly, who simply raised an eyebrow back.

"Who gives a fuck what you doubt or what you think?" Miz snarled back, turning Hunter's attention back to him.

"You are spreading your legs for him, aren't you Miz?" Hunter growled back, getting almost nose-to-nose with Miz.

"If I am, at least it's for a half-decent human being, unlike you. You'll spread yours for anyone, won't you?" Hunter let out an almost inhumane growl as he started to advance on Miz. To his credit, Miz didn't back down, merely pushed back against Hunter.

"Guys..." Chris was trying to prevent a fight, but it was fighting a losing battle.

"Look, you reality TV has-been," Hunter started, but Miz cut him off with a bark of laughter.

"Is that the best you got, Hunter? Are you completely incapable of coming up with something of your own? Because John Cena already used that line on me," Miz pointed out. He ignored the flash that went through him at the reminder. That was actually a lot harder for him to deal with than he cared to think about. He had been crushing on Cena then too.

"How about you and Jericho go fuck and get the hell out of my sight?" Hunter growled, clearly furious at Miz's cutting him off.

"Maybe we will. At least I know who the better man is."

"Really? You think Jericho's better than me?" Hunter growled. Chris looked between the two of them, one eyebrow arched in confusion.

"I know he is," Miz snapped back.

"Sure. You've fucked half the roster, so you would know who's better than who, huh?" Hunter pointed out. Miz was really sick of everyone thinking he was a whore. Well, if that's how they wanted to play, fine.

"You know what? Have it your way."

Before either Chris or Hunter could ponder what it was Miz had just said, the United States Champion grabbed Chris' cheeks, pulling them in. He then pressed his lips to Chris', his touch immediately dominating and demanding. He forced his tongue into Chris' mouth, tasting the blond with little regard for what Chris thought. Hunter got disgusted and stormed away, but Miz had his eyes closed, so he didn't notice. It was only when his lungs burned with the need for oxygen that he pulled away. Chris looked at him, his blue eyes wide in surprise. Miz paused, frozen in shock, before he turned and took off for the parking lot, for his own car. His hand fumbled around in his pocket for his keys as he fought back the urge to scream, rage, and cry.

_Good job, Mike. You just proved to everyone that you are nothing more than a whore_, Miz whispered in his head. Mike choked back the sob as he managed to get into his car and he sped out of the parking lot, heading right for the hotel, the lights in front of him a blur as tears raced down his cheeks.

**TBC**

**AN**: There's the next chapter of this story. I'm sorry it took so long, but I got in a bit of a pause after the last one. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to continue it, but I think this was a good next chapter. This one was actually longer than I thought it would end up being, and I'm quite happy with it. Next chapter, we see Chris' reaction to that impromptu kiss!

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	8. RAW

**AN**: So… lots of people reviewed the last chapter asking what Chris' reaction was to the kiss… and before I read them, I wasn't going to put in his reaction. I know I said it at the end of the chapter, but I had changed my mind after re-reading it, and decided that we'd focus on Mike's feelings… However, since everyone wants to know, I suppose I will. Oh, and for anyone who wants to know how I'm doing on NaNo, I'm not. I fell way behind, and unless I hit a huge writing spree, I'll never catch up. So, I'm probably not going to win this year. However, I am already twice as far as I was last year, so that makes me happy. Moving along.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

After Miz ran off, Chris found himself standing there for a few more minutes, his face stuck in shock. Hunter had stormed off, growling something about the WWE not being what it used to be, and generally showing his age. Chris, when he finally managed to move, began walking to his own rental car.

Mike "The Miz" Mizanin was ten years younger than Chris. He had only been in the WWE for three years. However, he worked his way to where he was, to a RAW talent, having already been on the other two brands before coming to RAW. Hell, he even manned up and challenged John Cena, who everyone knew was, literally, a real hard-hitter. Then again, Cena was at the top of the industry, right up there with Randy Orton, Shawn Michaels, Triple H, and the Undertaker. Chris had to give Miz that, he was ballsy. Chris threw his bag in the back seat as he thought about it more.

The kiss was obviously spur of the moment, but Hunter hadn't done too much to spark it. Sure, he was giving Miz shit, but Hunter gave everyone shit. Then again, Hunter was exceptionally pissed off at Show tonight… Maybe that had something to do with it. Either way, Chris didn't care about the Game. Miz had just randomly kissed him, and then tore out of the arena like he was burned. Chris grinned. He'd find out what was going on with Miz, and he'd find it out soon…

**BehindTheFacade**

Once at the hotel, Miz shot through the lobby, bag in hand, and tore up the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator. He slammed into his room, the one he was sharing with Evan, and threw the door closed, and tossed his bag on the floor. He groaned, falling face first into the bed. He had stopped crying in the car, luckily, and now just had to face what he had done. He rolled over, staring at the ceiling as he pondered what it was he wanted to do to make up for this. Well, he did owe Chris an explanation… Regardless of what his personal feelings may have been for the other blond, Miz did owe him that much. Especially if they were going to be tag team partners. Miz groaned at the reminder.

_Note to self… Never break script ever again_.

With that mental note added in his long list of mental notes, right up there next to 'Never tell John Morrison the Palace of Wisdom burned down', Miz grabbed his phone, punching in a very familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mickie. I'm going to conference in Jack for this one, okay?" Miz said. He could practically feel Mickie's concern.

"Okay… Is everything okay?"

"It's better if I tell you both at once."

With that, Miz put her on hold and pushed the button to call another number. Dialing Jack's, he mentally berated himself.

"Yo."

"Jack, I'm conferencing you and Mickie," he said.

"Like a threesome?" Jack asked. Miz couldn't help but grin.

"No, you idiot."

"Damn."

Miz rolled his eyes and joined the calls, listening as Jack and Mickie greeted each other.

"Now, Mike, what is this about?" Mickie asked.

"Well… Hunter was all pissed off after Smackdown won, and I told Chris that if he won, then I'd go to drinks with him after the show to talk about storylines and stuff. Well, we met up to leave, but Hunter got all up in his face, and then in mine, calling me a whore and saying that I spread my legs for everyone… I got upset… and ended up kissing him."

There was silence on both ends of the phone.

"Oh, wow," Jack muttered.

"Shut up, Jack. What are you going to do?" Mickie asked. Miz sighed.

"I don't know… I mean… I don't even know why I did it."

"Well, you can't hide from him. I mean, Survivor Series is in three weeks, and you're both going to be on RAW tomorrow night," she said.

"She's right man. But, just tell him you did it spur of the moment, and that it didn't mean anything. That's the truth right?"

Miz was silent after Jack spoke, wondering if that was the case. Did it mean anything? It was spur of the moment, but Miz couldn't be sure if it did or didn't mean anything.

"Mike?"

Mickie's voice snapped him out of it, and he sighed.

"You're both right. No, I'll be fine. I'll do that, Jack. Look, I'm going to get some sleep. Mickie, I'll see you at the Superstars taping, I hope. Jack, see ya tomorrow."

After the other two said their good byes, Miz hung up, plugging his phone into the charger before he kicked off his shoes and dropped into the bed. Fuck changing. That would take entirely too much time, and all Miz wanted to do now was sleep.

**BehindTheFacade**

The following day, Miz packed up with Evan, who had come in later last night, and got out to the cars. They were driving from Pittsburgh to Buffalo, and the two were going together, shoving Jack in the backseat. Truthfully, they probably should have headed out earlier, but Miz was driving and he was a bit of a speeder.

They got to Buffalo plenty of time, so the trio drove to the hotel, checking in and dropping off anything they wouldn't need. This time, Miz got a room of his own – one that he would probably be in for a while – and Jack and Evan were sharing a room. With that settled, the three of them grabbed some lunch, and then went to the arena to get some practice time in, and to meet Kyle Busch and Joey Logano early.

That night, Big Show came out with Chris Jericho, both prepared for what it was they were going to do. Jericho had his belts and the Bragging Rights trophy and began talking about how he single-handedly defeated Team RAW at Bragging Rights. Miz watched this, just because he wanted to see how Big Show handled the surrendering of his belts.

"Actually, Chris, I didn't do it for this 'team'."

Chris stopped, staring at Show in shock.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I did it for me. Smackdown General Manager Teddy Long promised me a chance against the Undertaker at Survivor Series for the World Heavyweight Championship if I made sure Smackdown won at Bragging Rights. I did it for the World Heavyweight Championship. Besides, after what happened on Smackdown last Friday, with The Miz saying that I was just your lapdog, I don't think I want to be in this tag team anymore," he said, glaring at Chris.

"What?" Chris asked, eyes narrowed. Miz had to give them both this: they could both act, though he wasn't sure that they were entirely happy with one another anyway.

"That's right. Since I'm going to win at Survivor Series against the Undertaker, and become the new World Heavyweight Champion, I don't need these baby belts, and I don't need you."

With that, Show dropped the belts at Chris' feet. He started to climb out of the ring, but the TitanTron cut to two NASCAR stock cars doing donuts in the parking lot. Miz rolled his eyes, watching as they drove into the arena. There was a Bella in each car, and Miz couldn't help the thought that came to mind.

_Nikki and Brie Bella, the latest in fashion accessory! Only the most fashionable celebrities have a Bella Twin! Get yours today!_

The Bellas got out of the car, dressed to match Joey Logano and Kyle Busch. The two came out, one of them siding with Show, one siding against him. Miz didn't care, so he stopped paying attention as he got ready for his segment with the two.

**BehindTheFacade**

Miz felt weird hitting on Eve – especially since her boyfriend was Shad Gaspard, and he was still intimidating, even if they were on a different brand – but she promised that it was all good, and Shad was aware that it was just for the storyline. Though Miz wondered who was going to be named the next Number One Contender for the WWE Championship, he really hoped it wasn't him. With the latest drama concerning Jericho, he was hoping that he didn't have to deal with it at all.

He changed into his blue ring gear and got the belt back over his shoulder as he prepared to face Evan Bourne. He didn't know what was going to happen, especially after that little fiasco with Jack over Eve, but he knew that he hated fighting Evan. Evan really was a sweet guy, and the two of them may not be that open about their relationship, but Jack really hated seeing anyone hit Evan.

Miz watched as Kofi destroyed Randy's car, wincing slightly. He really didn't know how he was supposed to beat that kind of a performance, but he was going to try. After all, he was The Miz, and everyone knew what they said about The Miz.

His theme hit, and he walked to the ring, kissing the belt with the same arrogance he was supposed to portray. He smirked as he walked down, smiling at Eve, who was the special ring announcer for that match. He passed the belt down and watched Evan make his way down the ramp.

Most of the match was a blur, but what Miz wasn't expecting was for Jack to come down and claim that no one was watching his match, and that they were all watching Eve. Miz wouldn't blame them if they were… Eve's dress was very good on her.

Miz then climbed out of the ring, getting in Jack's face. True to form, Evan took advantage of the opportunity to throw himself over the ropes and right at Jack and Miz. He rolled over, and then climbed back into the ring. Miz growled as he tried to pull himself into the ring, but was counted out. He ran after Evan a little, playing up the disbelief, before he turned back to Jack, clearly unsure what to do.

After the match, Jack apologized, as did Evan, and Miz waved them off, saying only 'ya did what ya had to do.' He then scrubbed up, cleaning the sweat off of his skin before he got ready to go back out. The main event was Triple H vs. The Big Show, but with the entire RAW roster as lumberjacks. As it turned out, Hunter wasn't the only one pissed after Bragging Rights.

D Generation X made their way out first, followed by the entire RAW male locker room. Miz stood by the ring in front of Jerry Lawler and Michael Cole, just watching and waiting. As if that wasn't enough of a surprise, John Cena came out as special guest referee. Miz made it a goal to ignore him.

The match progressed with Triple H looking like he was going to lose it for RAW. However, Cena slapped the mat twice, and then shot to his feet, looking at his wrist as though it hurt. Show stood up, getting in Cena's face, but Cena quickly moved out of the way as Chavo and Primo leapt into the air, planting their feet right into Show's chest, knocking him back in the corner. Then, Jack crawled into the ring, crossing the ring in no time, slamming his forearm into the big man's neck, actually pushing Big Show up on the buckle slightly and off his feet. However, he spent a little too much time bragging about it, and got shoved away for his trouble. Miz climbed in the ring and started at the same corner as Jack, running diagonally across the ring, and at Show. He jumped up, his forearm going to the same place, his lower body between the top and middle rope, in his usual swinging corner clothesline. Show literally butted heads with Miz afterward and he fell to the ground, swearing he saw stars.

Miz managed to roll himself over to watch as Mark Henry jumped into Big Show, MVP kicked him in the head, Evan climbed onto the top rope for a Shooting Star Press, which he got off successfully, Santino to waste enough time for Show to get to his feet, and then get grabbed by the throat, and chokeslammed, Kofi to give Show Trouble in Paradise, and then John to lift Show onto his shoulders for the Attitude Adjustment. Miz stood up, watching the ring carefully for if he would be needed again. However, he saw he wouldn't as D Generation X made their way into the ring, Hunter with a Smackdown shirt he put over Show's head. Then, Shawn began to tune up the band, with Hunter doing the same thing. Miz slapped the mat in excitement, feeling like he was in the audience watching the Showstopper work. He was a huge fan of Shawn Michaels, no matter what anyone said.

As Big Show managed to get to his feet, his body still bent in half, Shawn took advantage, moving over and giving him Sweet Chin Music, before Show stumbled over to Hunter. Hunter kicked him in the stomach, then Pedigree'd him, before rolling onto him. Cena slapped the mat in a quick one, two, three, and the arena was filled with D Generation X's theme. Miz cheered and wondered if Show may have been waiting for Chris to come out and save him.

However, the guest hosts had a surprise for them too. Their music cut DX's off, and they came out, mics in hand. Miz didn't pay attention to the exact words, but the meaning was the same.

At Survivor Series, there was a Triple Threat Match for the WWE Championship featuring WWE Champion, John Cena against Shawn Michaels and Triple H.

**TBC…**

**AN**: There's the chapter. And… uh… that's it, really. Kay, bye.

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	9. Drinks

**AN**: This one came slow, and I am terribly sorry for it. On another note, I watched RENT again last night, and I always cry when Angel dies… If you've never seen RENT, definitely take the time to watch it, and I'm sorry spoiled it slightly for you. Uh, anyway… Now that I've revealed that great personal truth, and Marshall is laughing at me, let's move on, shall we?

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

The following Friday, on Smackdown, Chris had a huge announcement to make. After all, the WWE Universe wouldn't be happy that Jericho had a chance to replace the Big Show as his tag team partner. They had been pissed when they found out that Adam had been replaced, so it only made sense. Jericho smoothed his hair down, sighing to himself. He wore the blue Smackdown shirt over his bare chest, his wrestling trunks and boots already on. There was no point in putting on his street clothes, only to have to change.

As his music hit, Jericho came out, a smirk on his face. He had one belt around his waist, the other over a shoulder, and the Bragging Rights trophy in hand. He climbed into the ring, catching the belt on his shoulder before it fell. He held the mic in hand, his usual Chris Jericho expression in place.

"You parasites and hypocrites may hate me, but I am the man who single-handedly won Bragging Rights for Smackdown. But, before I get to Bragging Rights, I have an announcement to make. Seeing as The Big Show quit our tag team last week, I need a new partner. And I know all you germ incubators are thinking that since I don't have a partner, I can't be one half of the Unified Tag Team Champions." Here, Chris smirked at them, his expression and eyes clearly mocking.

"You're wrong. See, after last week's Smackdown, I made sure to talk to management. I got a clause added to my contract that would allow me to replace the Big Show if he quit our tag team. So, at Survivor Series, I'll announce who my new tag team partner is." The crowd booed Chris, but he didn't care. He had more important things to worry about…

Flames erupted from the sides of the stage as Kane made his way out, the arena lights turning red. Chris looked worried instantly, then tried to play it off with a cool expression. It was what was supposed to happen. Kane made his way to the ring, Chris staying put.

"So, Chris. You think you single-handedly won Bragging Rights? I think you're forgetting who your co-captain is," he sneered, growling at Chris. Chris merely looked away from him. Kane looked at the audience.

"However, I don't really care about that right now. Since our esteemed general manager, Teddy Long, thought it wise to give The Big Show a title shot against my brother…" here, Kane had to pause as the crowd went wild. He cracked his neck slightly, ignoring their cheers. "I want a title shot too."

Kane was cut off as Teddy's music hit, the GM making his way down the ramp and into the ring. He took the mic that was offered to him and waited until the audience quieted down.

"I'll take that playa," he said, taking the Bragging Rights trophy away from Jericho, who glared at him for it.

"Chris, you have a match at Survivor Series. Your tag team partner will face off against the winner of a tag team Number One Contenders Tournament that will be taking place in the weeks leading up to Survivor Series. Representing Smackdown, it will be Shad Gaspard and JTG, Cryme Tyme, against Tyson Kidd and David Hart Smith, the Hart Dynasty! The winner will go on to face whoever won the RAW match between MVP and Mark Henry, and Cody Rhodes and Ted DiBiase. The winner of that match will face ECW's Ezekiel Jackson and Vladimir Kozlov."

The crowd roared in approval again, Chris glaring at Teddy, as he was supposed to. Sometimes he wondered why he followed script so closely.

"As for you, Kane. You've got your match too. At Survivor Series, there will be a Triple Threat Match for the World Heavyweight Championship. The Big Show vs Kane vs The Undertaker! But, the main event for tonight, will be Kane vs Chris Jericho to see who really won Bragging Rights for Smackdown."

**BehindTheFacade**

The match against Kane had been brutal, but fun at the same time. Kane was an amazing athlete, and Chris actually liked every match he was in against the Big Red Machine. This one had been interesting just like all the others. However, in the end, it was Chris who got the win, pinning Kane to the mat after a vicious Code Breaker.

So, after Smackdown, Chris had driven to the hotel where the RAW Superstars were staying. Chris himself was actually staying with the Smackdown Superstars, but he had some business to take care of in the form of a certain twenty-nine year old blond.

As he made his way into the bar area, where he had been informed that Miz was by none other than Evan Bourne, Chris began to search. He found Miz sitting at a corner of the bar, almost absently watching the game on the television. Chris sat next to him, ordering a beer from the bartender, watching as Miz slowly turned his head to look at him, almost as though he was wishing Chris wasn't there.

"Don't worry, Mike," Chris said, grinning. "I won't bite." Miz groaned.

"God, why can't you leave me alone?" Miz asked. Chris thanked the bartender as he passed him the beer.

"Well, when ya kiss a guy like that, you have to expect them to come back for more," Chris teased. Miz opened his mouth to explain, but Chris stopped him. "No, really, it's fine. I don't care why you did it; I don't really want to know why you did it. Whatever you did, you did for your own reasons, and it's none of my business. However, I do want to at least get to know you a little." Miz watched him curiously, but Mike pushed that possessive and protective shell away, curious to get to know his soon-to-be tag team partner.

"Alright," he said, his eyes lightening a shade. "Buy me another Heineken, and we'll talk."

As the conversation progressed, Miz found himself pushed away as Mike enjoyed himself. It wasn't something that Miz was ready to just outright accept, but he could take it with a gain of salt right now. After all, Chris had some interesting topics. He spoke of music, telling Mike about his own band and hearing Mike's opinion on the bands that made the Superstars theme songs, as well as those that came to visit, or lent their music to the Pay-Per-Views. The two were actually getting along quite well by the end of the night, so when Mike had to say goodnight, Chris smiled and nodded, stating that he would see Mike on RAW Monday. As Mike walked away, Miz watched him look back and smile at Chris.

And Miz was left wondering where they stood now.

**TBC**

**AN**: Kind of short, but I rather like it. I didn't feel like going into great detail with Smackdown, only because it didn't make a whole lot of sense for me to do that. Not only that, but I went to bed really late this morning (or last night), and woke up really early. Sooo… yeah. Bye.

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	10. Champions

**AN**: Now, the fun one. I've thought about this chapter a lot, and I even had to switch some matches around to keep everything relatively accurate for Survivor Series. That made me realize how hard these matches are for people to make. Jesus. Anyway… This chapter features a Time Skip of Doom (That was thrown in just for you, Kiharu), meaning I didn't want to type up every RAW and Smackdown until Survivor Series. So, this is the chapter of Survivor Series.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

Survivor Series was here at last. Mike and Chris had been perfecting their tag team moves and their flow with tagging one another, and their relationship had bloomed from disliking one another to a tentative friendship. Though Chris wouldn't admit it out loud, he found that he was falling for Mike. It was strange for him to think that he could already be so close to in love with a man that he couldn't stand only a few weeks prior, but he didn't think too much about it.

Backstage at Survivor Series, he finally found Mike, sitting there, looking at the Unified Tag Team Championship belts. He already had on his ring gear, as did Mike. They were both black, Chris' with Jericho on the back of the trunks in blue, and Save Me on the boots, also in blue. Mike's were the same he usually wore, however the parts that were usually black were blue, and the trunks themselves were black. His boots were black with blue faces on them. They were the official trunks for Team Ego, as they were going to be called. Chris was just happy to be away from 'JeriShow'.

"You okay, Mike?" he asked. Mike looked up at him nodding. Chris then noticed that Mike already had the United States Championship belt around his waist. Mike was going to come down with the Tag Team Championships on his shoulders.

"I'm going to go sit in the lounge and watch the matches before ours. You wanna come?" Mike asked, standing. Chris nodded.

"Sure."

The two of them moved to the lounge, just in time to catch the end of the dark match where Santino beat Chavo. Unfortunately for the Guerrero, those matches were all scripted, and all for him to lose. Chris thought it was horrible, but Chavo had dug his own grave when he was forced to agree with everything Vickie said. Chris made a mental note to try to get Chavo the respect he deserved.

The opening fireworks for Survivor Series shot off, along with the official Survivor Series theme song, by Art of Dying. Mike rolled his neck around, getting comfortable in his chair as he watched. The first match of the evening was Team Ziggler vs. Team Morrison. Mike had been the one who was originally supposed to be leading what was now 'Team Ziggler', but when Vince decided that he was going for the tag team gold, it was given to Ziggler. Mike and Chris watched the teams come out.

Team Ziggler consisted of Dolph Ziggler, Drew McIntyre, Sheamus, William Regal, and Jack Swagger. Team Morrison was the Intercontinental Champion John Morrison, Evan Bourne, Finlay, ECW Champion Christian, and Matt Hardy. Just to make the match more interesting for them, Chris cheered for Team Morrison, and Mike cheered for the team that was to be his.

Evan pinned Dolph, Drew pinned Evan, Sheamus pinned Finlay, John pinned William, Jack pinned Christian (which Mike bet made that arrogant 'Two Time All-American American' idiot happy), Drew pinned Matt, and Sheamus pinned John. That left Jack Swagger, Drew McIntyre, and Sheamus standing the ring with their arms raised in victory. Mike had to admit, as did Chris, that Sheamus and Drew were getting a pretty great push. Jack, on the other hand, was just talent, and Mike knew it. He hit pretty damn hard too.

Next, Kofi Kingston's music hit, and his team came out. This one was one that Mike was interested in seeing. Rey Mysterio and Dave Batista were on opposing teams, facing off against each other after the catastrophe at Bragging Rights. Not only that, but the epic feud between Kofi and Randy would come to blows here. Kofi, Mark Henry, MVP, R-Truth, and Rey Mysterio came out, making their way to the ring. Mike watched the way that Rey paced and tugged on his mask nervously. Chris tilted his head as _Voices_ filled the arena. Randy came down the ramp, followed by Ted DiBiase and Cody Rhodes. They were followed by CM Punk and Batista. They entered the ring, and the match started almost immediately.

Randy ended up pinning Mark (that RKO looked painful. Mike was suddenly glad he was backstage instead of in the ring), CM Punk pinned R-Truth, Rey pinned Ted. As Ted walked out of the arena, shaking his head in rage, Batista climbed in the ring. The two had a stare down before the blows came. Batista hit Rey with a spine buster, and then three Batista bombs before the ref declared that Rey could no longer compete and pulled him out. After that, MVP came in. MVP ended up pinning Batista and then Punk in almost rapid succession. Then Randy entered the ring and pinned MVP. Cody came in, but was pinned by Kofi. Finally, Kofi and Randy were up against one another. They exchanged blows, almost violently, before Randy hit a breath-taking RKO and pinned Kofi. He stood victorious over Kofi, a sinister smirk on his face.

"Hey, c'mon Mike," Chris said. Mike blinked, looking at Chris before nodding and heading to the curtain at a jog, keeping side-by-side with Chris. The bell rang and Justin Roberts began speaking.

"The following bout is scheduled for one-fall, and is for the Unified Tag Team Championship! Introducing first, the challengers! At a combined weight of five hundred and ninety-two pounds, Vladimir Kozlov and Ezekiel Jackson!"

The two from ECW came out, someone's music playing. Mike didn't even know. Chris looked at Mike and grinned.

"You remember what you're supposed to do, right?" he asked. Mike nodded.

"Don't come out until you say that you have your partner. I know, Chris," he said. Chris nodded.

"And their opponent. From Manhasset, New York, weighing in at two hundred and twenty-six pounds, he is one half of the Unified Tag Team Champions… Chris Jericho!"

His music hit and Chris walked out, a smirk on his face, one belt around his waist, and the other hanging on his shoulder. He walked into the ring, looking at Vladimir and Ezekiel for a moment before taking the mic offered to him.

"You gelatinous tapeworms see me come out without a partner and assume that I don't have one, don't you?" he asked. The crowd cheered, obviously hoping he didn't have one. He let them before smirking.

"Of course I have one, you imbeciles. And it's going to be the most shocking union of you pathetic little lives." Chris handed the mic back to Justin and demanded that he introduce his tag team partner. It was then that Chris realized other implications his words about 'union' could mean. He pushed these thoughts away and looked toward the ramp.

"And his tag team partner, from Cleveland, Ohio, weighing in at two hundred and thirty-one pounds, he is one half of the Unified Tag Team Champions, and the United States Champion… The Miz!"

_Reality_ hit, and Mike came out, holding up the two belts from the Unified Tag Team Championship above his head, smirking and grinning at everyone, before he began to shake his head and yell at the crowd. Chris watched him, smirking as the crowd began to boo. This was the biggest push of Mike's career, but Chris knew he deserved it. The kid was a good wrestler.

The champions handed all of their belts over, the ref taking Chris' tag team belts and holding them up in the air. Miz climbed out of the ring, standing by the turnbuckle as Ezekiel did the same, his eyes narrowed as he watched Vladimir face up with Chris.

The bell rang and the match began. Chris and Vladimir went to lock up, but Chris changed his mind last second, sending his foot into Vladimir's gut. Vladimir doubled over in pain, and Chris moved, swiftly kicking him in the ass, putting him on his knees. Chris smirked at the audience, who booed at him. He grabbed Vladimir's ankles, swiftly applying the Walls of Jericho. To be honest, Chris didn't like either Vladimir or Ezekiel, but the ECW's Ruthless Round Table had managed to take out The Hart Dynasty, so they did earn their shot at the titles.

Vladimir managed to grab the ropes, and the ref began to shout out a count, hitting four before Chris let go. He moved over, tagging Miz in. Miz leaned over Vladimir, smacking him in the head mockingly before he forced him to stand up, wrapping one arm around the Russian's head before squeezing, holding his first arm with his other one. Vladimir gripped at Miz's arm, trying to pull it away. Miz felt his grip start to go, but jumped, his feet hitting the mat hard as he tightened his grip. Vladimir reached a hand out to Ezekiel, who also extended his arm, but neither could reach each other. Miz suddenly felt himself leave the ground, his body thrown over Vladimir's and into the ground. A second thud told Miz that Vladimir had used most of his energy to do that move.

Miz stood up, gripping the ropes for help before he ran across the ring, a forearm to the face sending Ezekiel to the arena floor. He forced Vladimir to stand up, Irish whipping the Moscow Mauler across the ring and into a turn buckle. The Russian winced, holding onto the top ropes to keep himself from falling down. Miz then ran across the ring, jumping and looping his legs through the top and middle rope, slamming his body into Vladimir's, who fell to the mat. Miz jumped down quickly, shoving Vladimir over and going for the cover. The ref's hand only slapped the mat twice before Vladimir managed to kick out. Miz sighed, standing up before he tagged Chris in. As the two switched, Chris saw that Ezekiel Jackson had gotten back to his feet. However, instead of standing by the turnbuckle to help his partner, Ezekiel walked away, shaking his head and heading up the ramp. Chris looked at Miz, who shrugged, and then the veteran went after Vladimir, kicking him. Vladimir got to his feet and pushed Chris toward the ropes. Chris hit he ropes near Miz, who tagged himself in. Vladimir didn't see it, and the Cleveland native got into the ring, waiting. Vladimir tried to catch Chris, but Y2J ducked under his arm, hitting the rope and jumping, his arms grabbing Vladimir's neck as he lifted his knees up for the Code Breaker. Vladimir stumbled as Chris rolled out of the ring, but didn't fall.

Miz, however, got him quickly. He wrapped his arms under Vladimir's, bringing them up by his head. He swept his foot out, wrapping it around Vladimir's leg before he slammed the Russian's face into the mat, hitting the Skull Crushing Finale with ease. He rolled Vladimir over, covering him quickly. The ref's hand hit the mat three times, and the bell rang.

"And your winners and still the Unified Tag Team Champions, Chris Jericho and The Miz!"

Miz's music played since he got the cover, and the ref stood between the two, lifting their arms before their belts were passed back into the ring and to the duo. Miz grinned and hugged Chris before lifting his arm. If the WWE Universe was confused by this, they didn't let Chris and Miz know, just continued to boo them as the duo made their way backstage.

The next match was the Triple Threat match for the World Heavyweight Championship. Chris and Mike agreed that they were going to cheer for the Undertaker or Kane. Show came out first, followed by Kane. Finally, the red lights disappeared and blue filled the arena. Taker made his way to the ring, walking with the steady patience of someone who was used to the business and the way things went. He entered the ring, removing his coat and hat, his eyes rolled back in his head. The crowd ate it up, and so did Chris and Mike backstage. The two watched with eyes glued to the television as Taker mutilated Kane and the Big Show to earn his victory, retaining the championship.

Next up was the Diva match, and Mike was glued to the television, even though Chris said it wasn't worth it. Mike had snapped at him so bad that Chris made a note never to miss another Diva match. Team Mickie made their way out to Mickie's bouncy music. Mickie bounced out first, dancing on stage before she was followed by Kelly Kelly, Gail Kim, Eve Torres, and the Diva's Champion, Melina. Team Michelle made their way out next, coming out to her music. Next to Michelle was Layla, followed closely by Alicia Fox. Beth Phoenix and Jillian Hall brought up the rear, obviously unimpressed by the way Layla and Alicia followed Michelle like puppies.

The match began and Kelly quickly pinned Layla. Michelle then came in, pinning Gail. Eve took her place and pinned Jillian. Beth entered when Jillian was pinned, and Eve backed up, tagging Melina. The Diva's Champion was pinned after a vicious Glam Slam from Beth. Beth then pinned Kelly the same way. However, Mickie gained vengeance for her team after she came in and pinned Beth, followed by a quick pin on Alicia. Mickie and Michelle went at it for a little bit before Mickie got hit with a vicious kick. She kicked out of the pin, hitting Michelle with a kick of her own before tagging in Eve. Eve and Michelle went at it, though Eve finally managed to throw Michelle down. While Michelle was writhing in pain on the mat floor, Eve moved to the opposite turnbuckle, beginning to run. She jumped off, pushing herself into a handspring before landing hard on Michelle. She went right into the cover, grinning at her successful handspring splash before the ref's hand hit the mat three times. She got to her feet and Mickie climbed in, the two celebrating in the ring. Mike cheered for his friend too, making Chris cheer as well.

The Triple Threat Match for the WWE Championship wasn't watched with the same intensity, though Mike was cheering for Shawn to win it. After the match was won by Cena, Mike began to call the ref names, even though the match had gone well. Chris just watched and laughed.

As the two were celebrating their victory and enjoying the other matches, Miz watched the interactions. Mike was getting awful close to Chris… Maybe it wouldn't hurt to back off a little and let him have his fun. Miz would have to wait and see what happened, unfortunately. However, for now, he backed off a little and let Miz have some fun.

**TBC**

**AN**: Yay! Another update out now. I'm aware that this was all the other matches, and I'm aware of how short the match was for the Unified Tag Team Championship, but whatever. This is my little messed-up world, and in it, Vladimir Kozlov and Ezekiel Jackson don't stand a chance. This fic may be put on hiatus if I can't manage to come up with an idea to make it more interesting… We'll see after the next chapter comes up, okay? Okay.

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	11. Home

**AN**: So, what do ya know? I won't be going on hiatus with this story. After reading the reviews for the last chapter, and hearing everyone tell me how much they didn't want me to go on hiatus, I sat down and thought up some ideas. I don't know how well it's going to work, but I'm giving it a shot. So, without any further ado, chapter eleven. Oh, and the little girl, Candace/Candy, mentioned in here is CodyRhodesFan's creation. She's merely letting me borrow her because she's an amazing person.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

Mike sighed as he got off the plane in Los Angeles. His aunt was supposed to be picking him up from the airport to take him home. She was a great woman, but she talked too much, and Mike was exhausted. He was, however, glad to be back home. He found her and hugged her back, answering the usual questions he got from her: I'm fine, and you? The flight was good, just long. She mentioned that she had watched Survivor Series and he paused in the act of putting his suitcase in the back to look at her.

"You never watch wrestling though," he said, frowning. "You said it was obnoxious."

"Yes, but I have to watch my only nephew once and a while, don't I?" she asked. "That partner of yours, Jericho? He's quite a cutie. Rather rude though." Mike rolled his eyes and got in the car, closing the door and listening to her go on and on about the other wrestlers she thought were cute and what not.

Mike took his bag from the trunk when they pulled up at his house a little while later. He smiled and waved goodbye to her, declining the offer for her to stick around.

"No, I'm exhausted. I'll call you in a little while, okay?" he said. She agreed and drove off, leaving Mike to roll his eyes in exasperation. He pulled out his key, unlocking the door, and walking in. He dropped his suitcase and duffel bag on the floor and fell onto his couch, groaning in pleasure as he closed his eyes to rest…

But his efforts were in vain as his doorbell rung. He groaned and threw a pillow at the door. Unfortunately, this caused whoever was at the door to knock, loudly, Mike might add. Mike growled in discontent before getting up, kicking off his shoes as he made his way to the door. He pulled it open, blinking in surprise.

Standing in the doorway was a man and a young girl. The man was about five feet, ten inches and was thin. He had pitch black hair that was pulled back in a loose ponytail today and blue-green eyes. He wore a black Summer Slam t-shirt with a pair of low-riding, but tight blue jeans and Converse on his feet. The girl next to him couldn't be more than ten, and wore a yellow dress and a pair of white dress shoes. She had curly red hair and bright green eyes.

"Nero? Candy?" Mike asked, smiling. He moved aside, letting them in.

"Hey, Mikey!" Candy said, bouncing in to the room and hugging her cousin tightly. Nero smiled at him and hugged the taller man before he sat down on a chair. Mike closed the door and sat down on the couch, Candy plopping down beside him.

"What brings you two over here?" Mike asked, pulling his young cousin into his lap. She giggled.

"Nero said you'd be home today, so we decided to come and see you. Do you have any puzzles?" she asked. Mike thought about it for a minute before pointing at a small cabinet sitting against the wall.

"There may be a few in there from when you were here last time," he said. Candy smiled and bounced over, opening the cabinet and pulling out a puzzle before promptly dumping it on the floor to put it together.

"I saw the match at Survivor Series. Good job," Nero said. Mike shrugged, but he was grinning.

"It was pretty cool. I didn't think we'd keep them, to be honest, but Ezekiel wasn't apparently all that into the match," Mike said, rubbing the back of his neck. Nero laughed softly as he watched Candy before looking back at Mike.

"What's up with you and Chris? You've never hugged anyone after a match, except John, but I wasn't expecting that," Nero said. Mike sighed.

"I don't know. I think I'm starting to like him, but I can't tell for sure. I mean, how did you know that Marshall was the one for you?" he asked, watching Nero. The dark haired man shrugged.

"I don't know, to be honest. The first time I met him, I thought he was going to kill me. He was so intense and everything and I thought that he was absolutely psycho. But after that, I was just… comfortable with him, and everything was great. Do you think Chris could be the one for you?" Nero asked. Mike shrugged.

"I don't know," he admitted. "It's really soon in the game to be thinking that."

"It could be a good move for you," Nero replied, watching his friend. "I mean, with what happened with John, you need to move on."

"John was a poopie-head," Candy said. Mike looked over at her with a grin and shook his head.

"I don't know… Oh, speaking of John, he tried to talk to me about it the other day. I blew him off, but still… Should I have let him talk to me?" Nero shrugged.

"Well, how do you feel about the whole thing?"

"Pissed. I still am. I'm over the hurt part, but the anger's still there," Mike replied.

"Then it's probably for the best that you walked away. It's a bad idea to try to talk things over before you've really gotten over the anger. When it dulls down to an upset feeling, then it's probably safe to talk to him," Nero advised. Mike nodded in agreement, and then Nero spoke again.

"However, I suggest you let Marshall know if he gets too weird, okay? Nobody wants anything to happen to you, and Marshall will make sure that John leaves you alone if it comes to that," Nero said. Mike looked at Nero for a minute. Marshall, in Mike's honest opinion, was psycho. He cared for only himself, though Mike suspected that the Englishman cared a great deal for Nero as well, and probably wouldn't hesitate to kill him if it came down to it. However, Mike nodded in agreement, and Nero smiled.

"Good," Nero said.

"Nero? Mikey? Can we go out for ice cream?" Candy asked. Mike blinked and looked over, seeing the completed puzzle sitting in front of her. Mike usually forgot how smart the ten-year-old was.

"I don't mind," Nero said, turning blue-green eyes to Mike. Candy's green eyes locked on Mike for a minute before he sighed and held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay," he said. Candy cheered and Nero laughed. Mike pulled his shoes back on and grabbed his keys, following Nero and Candy out the door, locking it behind him. They walked the two blocks to the closest ice cream shop, Candy hopping on one foot most of the way. Nero filled Mike in on Candy's schooling. Since the young girl was too smart for the public schools, her parents decided to hire Nero to tutor her. Then again, Mike's other aunt and uncle were filthy rich and were never home. Candy considered Nero like her big brother, and Mike was her favorite, when he was home.

Once they reached the ice cream stand, Nero looked at the menu, carefully picking up the little redhead so that she could see the menu. She giggled and told Nero what she wanted, and he smiled, nodding in agreement.

"Mike what do you…? Mike?"

Nero turned around to ask Mike what kind of ice cream he wanted, but the United States Champion was gone.

**TBC**

**AN**: Dun dun dun!!! Where could Mike possibly be?! I know, but you guys won't know until the next chapter!! I know, I'm a cruel, cruel person. I love you all anyway.

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	12. Prisoner

**AN**: Okay, so I had to really think this one through, and I'm still not 100% sure how I want it to end… So, with that said, I guess we'll just see what happens, won't we?! YES WE WILL!! Haha, now moving along.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

Mike awoke with a muffled groan. As soon as he realized he couldn't hear himself speak, his blue eyes widened. He tried to sit up, but found that to be impossible. He could lift his shoulders and his head, but his arms were immobilized . A quick test proved that his legs were as well. He growled under his breath, looking at his wrists, which were tied down to the table he was on with thick lengths of rope. He was willing to bet his ankles were as well. As far as his mouth goes… He was going to regret this later, but he moved his tongue to touch the thing. It was actually just a clean part of a sheet. Mike was mildly surprised, but he was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the door open.

Immediately, the change happened and it was Miz who stared at the brunette with narrowed and angry eyes, though his body posture was calm. The man glared back, his facial expression rude and cruel before he ripped the gag out of Miz's mouth. Miz said nothing, just looked up at him.

"Damn, I was right. You are a little whore."

Somewhere inside, the words stung Mike. However, it was just like he told Nero: the hurt was gone, leaving only a smoldering anger. Miz watched him, not saying anything, just biding his time. John continued to speak.

"I thought you might be better, which is why I tried to talk to you. But you brushed me off and then got close to Jericho, of all people…" John trailed off and stopped his pacing and looked at Miz. "Tell me, did you let him fuck you? Did you spread those legs for him? Suck him off? C'mon, I can take it."

"Fuck you," Miz hissed. John slapped him hard, causing Miz's head to move on the table. He moved his jaw, listening to it pop, before he slowly moved his head back to look at John.

"You're in no position to talk trash, Miz," John stated. Miz's eyes hardened slightly, but he didn't react otherwise. John, however, took hold of the situation.

"What? Are you surprised I can tell the difference? Ha. I watched you when you were upset, Miz. You would shelter Mike away so that no one could see him. Yeah, and then you would put on this tough-guy shield and berate anyone who got too close. Are you doing that with Jericho? Is wittle baby Mikey ignoring you so that he can live his own life? You know you're just a shield, a façade, to make him feel better," John stated. Miz looked at him and began to laugh, a slow, mocking sound at first, then it was genuine.

"God, you're stupider than I thought," Miz said, enjoying the way John's face scrunched up in anger. "You really think that Mike has any control? You're just as stupid as you are weak. Why'd ya tie me up, John? Afraid I'll damage that pretty face of yours? You're weak. Instead of taking the word of a man who loved you, ya threw it away, and for what? A bunch of people who would give you shit? Yeah, Mike hung around other guys. He had to. Do you know the Divas he could have hung out with? Whores, every one of 'em. Well, except for a couple that actually have class." Miz stopped, shaking his head best he could in the situation. He may be tied to the table, but he had the upper hand, which was proven by the look that John was giving him.

"You fucked up, Johnny boy. Ya threw away the best thing you were going to get in your entire life. And it just rubs you the wrong way to know that he may love someone else, doesn't it? What're ya gonna do now? Torture me? Go ahead. You don't have the balls to kill me, so what do I care? Besides, you still have to go on the road, and if I don't show up, people are going to start asking questions. Who do you think the top suspect will be?"

John stopped, listening to everything that Miz was saying. Unfortunately, the arrogant bastard has a point. Miz was going to be missed, especially now that he held three belts and Jericho was his partner. Jericho had a lot more sway in the business than anyone wanted to admit. John thought about it, beginning to pace again. Miz didn't have a way out. This wasn't planned until he landed in LA. He had then stalked Mike, rather easily, John had to admit. Then, when the timing was perfect, he grabbed him and drove off. That stupid little ravenette with him hadn't had a clue what happened, though the little redhead seemed too intelligent for her own good. John ignored that thought. She was just a kid, right? What could a kid do?

John turned, smirking at Miz.

"Way to bluff, Miz. But you don't have a prayer. You're as good as mine…"

**BehindTheFacade**

Nero swore as he pulled his phone out, immediately dialing the number he knew by heart. On the second ring, a voice answered.

"What is it, _mon amour_?"

The English accent made the French seem that much more exotic. Marshall was British, but he had been taught French at a young age. He knew that Nero liked hearing him talk in other languages, so he did it a lot for his young lover. However, this was not the time to start thinking about that.

"Marshall, Mike's gone. He was behind me when we went to get ice cream, and now he's gone." A soft curse escaped Marshall and he sighed.

"Stay calm, Nero. I will be there shortly. Did you see anything?"

"No, I didn't see a damn thing. My back was turned and I-"

Nero was cut off by Candy tugging on his shirt.

"Nero? I saw something," she said, her green eyes looking up at him. Nero blinked and gave the phone to her.

"Marshall, I saw something," she said. Marshall's tone softened. He didn't like children much, but Candy was a rare child.

"What did you see, _petit ange_?" Marshall asked. Candy smiled slightly at the nickname.

"John."

Marshall managed to bite back another curse, and Nero gasped softly.

"What did he do, Candy?" Marshall asked. She looked at Nero before answering.

"He grabbed Mike, put some kind of rag over his mouth and dragged him to a car. It was… a big black SUV… like daddy drives," she said. Marshall thanked her, asking her to give the phone back to Nero.

"Yes?" Nero asked.

"What the hell does her father drive?" he asked, his tone irritated. Nero fought back his giggle.

"An Escalade. Marshall, he said that John was acting weird and tried to talk to him. Do you think he's in any real danger?" There was a pause.

"I do not know, _mon amour_. I will make sure that if he is harmed, double the harm will come to John," he growled. Nero bit his lip.

"Uh, Marshall?"

"Yes?"

"I think we should call Jericho."

"That idiot? Why?"

"Mike… Mike kinda likes him. It might make him feel better, and could bring their feelings to the surface."

Silence.

"Nero… are you telling me that you are willing to risk his life to play matchmaker?" Marshall said, his tone impossible to read. That just told Nero that he was pissed. Nero's face turned to a pout.

"No!! I'm just saying, Chris isn't completely defenseless, it might make _Mike_ feel better instead of Miz, and Chris is less likely to kill him."

Silence again. Then a sigh.

"Fine, Nero. But you are calling him, and I will be there as well."

"I love you, Marshall."

"And I you, _mon amour_."

The line went dead and Nero grinned at Candy.

"Time to call the hero in this tale."

**TBC**

**AN**: And there's the introduction of Marshall and his wonderfuliferious French!! Next chapter, you'll get to see how Chris reacts, and possibly actually see Marshall. I know this chapter was a lot of dialogue, but it needed to be. Oh! And a note: _mon amour _means 'my love' and _petit ange _means 'little angel'.

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	13. Torture

**AN**: Okay, do to the rather graphic nature of this chapter, I have to put up a disclaimer. I think I'd make myself sick by putting up complete details, however I think you'll get the point. There is rape in this chapter, and I do not condone rape in any way, shape, or form. It's disgusting, and nasty, and just wrong. By the way, for those of you who don't know, rape has very little to do with lust. Usually, it's more anger than lust. Anyway, if this chapter would offend you, then you are welcome to skip down to the end, where the only minor important details lie, though I will be sure to put up a recap on the next chapter if you just want nothing to do with this chapter at all. Anyone who has been raped or sexually assaulted in their life, I hope that you can talk to someone about it. The National Sexual Assault hotline's number, if you want to call, is 1-800-656-HOPE (4673). Anyway, enough of my little disclaimer/rant thing.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

While Nero convinced Marshall to call Chris, and the call was placed, John found himself getting sick of Miz's smart mouth. Everything John said, Miz had some sort of stupid comeback for, though they were all incredibly witty and John hated to admit that. With each word that came from John's mouth, his rage grew, his feeling of dominance began to tremble. Miz was the one strapped to a table, but John was the one who wasn't feeling dominant? That wasn't going to last much longer. John wouldn't let it.

"Whatever you say, sparkle-ass. You'd think with all the time you spend Bedazzling stuff, you'd bedazzle yourself a brain."

That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, in a manner of speaking, because John removed his studded belt and slammed it down on Miz's exposed flesh. For just a second, Miz disappeared and Mike cried out in agony, only to be pushed aside by Miz again. In that instance, John saw that in order to dominate once again, he would have to dominate Miz. So, John smirked, removing Miz's clothes. Miz simply looked at him, watching as the welts from the belt blossomed on his torso. He felt his pants leave his body and pool around his ankles before he looked at John.

"You're going to regret ever crossing me," John growled. Then, without warning, three fingers pushed violently into Mike's tight, unprepared hole. Miz was gone, the pain too extreme for him to take, as Mike screamed in agony. John didn't let up, speeding up, making it burn as the pain grew. Mike tried to block it out, but John was having none of that.

"What's wrong, Mike? You don't like the way I fuck you anymore? You used to. I remember when you would scream and beg me to fuck you more," he sneered. He pulled his fingers out, ignoring the tears streaming freely from Mike's eyes as he removed his own pants. He ignored Mike's pleas for mercy and untied Mike's ankles to throw the pants across the room. He lifted Mike's hips, thrusting his hard member into Mike's still-unprepared hole. Mike screamed again, feeling the tearing and blood begin to drip down. Mike's eyes closed as he tried to block the pain, thinking of all the people he was letting down. Nero, Candy, Marshall… He yelped when John's hand closed over his own flaccid cock, stroking it in an effort to make Mike hard. Mike ignored his body's reaction, the way that his cock refused to work for John.

Instead, Chris' face came to mind: the soft blond hair that was always spiked slightly, almost as if he had just gotten out of bed; the blue eyes that lit up when he was laughing, and went dull when he was in character; the way he smiled when he talked to Mike. It was in that instant, in the middle of hell and torture, that Mike became aware that he loved Chris. It wasn't some quick thing for him, but he realized that he had loved Chris since he met him. And then, he realized that The Miz wasn't another part of him that wanted to protect him, it was the strong side of him that he continually tried to repress because people didn't like it. But Chris liked it. And that was all that mattered.

John cried out as he felt his release, spilling inside Mike, making the blond whimper at the way that it filled him. He felt disgusted, nauseous, and more than a little violated. John pulled out, panting as he cleaned himself off and pulled his pants back on, leaving Mike naked and filthy on the table. Mike looked at John, his eyes narrowing.

"That's all you got?" he asked. John met his gaze, his eyes narrowed in rage.

"Oh, I've only just begun…"

**BehindTheFacade**

After successfully calling Chris, who was, thankfully, in Los Angeles for a promotion of his rock band, Nero told him that they would pick the blond up. So, he got in the car, Candy going with him because he had no where else to take her. He swung by, picking up his tall, English lover, and then they were off to pick up Chris.

Chris glared at the black truck as it pulled up to him, and the passenger side window rolled down, revealing a man with black hair that was slicked back and held at the nape of his neck with a rubber band, with almost black eyes. He wore a silk black button up, and his dark eyes narrowed.

"Chris Jericho. Get in the back," he ordered. Chris wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but instead, he climbed it he back, sitting next to the redhead child.

"Hi. I'm Candy. The guy driving is my tutor, Nero, and the other guy is his boyfriend, Marshall. Mike's my cousin," she said. Chris nodded, looking at Nero and Marshall. Marshall's features had been furious when Chris saw him.

"Nice to meet you, Candy. I'm Chris. What happened to Mike now?" he asked. Nero's blue-green eyes met his in the rearview mirror.

"Candy and I went with him to get some ice cream, and then next thing I knew, he was gone. Candy said she saw John put a rag of some kind up to his face and drag him into a black Escalade," Nero said.

"Morrison?"

"Yeah. That's the only one that Candy knows in person," Nero said. Chris swore under his breath, looking at Marshall.

"Do you have any idea where they could be?" Chris asked. Marshall's eyes narrowed.

"Believe it or not, John is actually a rather predictable person. We are going to go to his house, and then to the garage he has for his cars. If he is not in either of those, then I do not know where he would be, which will just make this that much worse for him."

Chris believed that deadly tone in Marshall's voice, and prayed that Mike was okay as Nero drove.

**BehindTheFacade**

Mike panted as blood trickled from the various wounds in his body. John had beaten him up a few times, giving Mike a black eye, a cut above his eye, and a swollen lip. Then, John had grabbed a screwdriver, scraping it on Mike's flesh repeatedly, waiting until long lines of blood followed in the wake of the metal tool, before moving on to another part. At one point, he just gave up with that and grabbed a knife, poking the tip into various spots in Mike's flesh, turning the blade in circles to make the wounds worse. Somewhere along this torture, Mike lost his voice, his throat screamed raw.

_Someone… anyone… please, help me…_

**TBC**

**AN**: I feel like a horrible person right now… However, this was a key chapter in the story. Next chapter, it gets better. I do believe this story may be coming to an end, to be honest… I'm not one hundred percent sure on that, so yeah. Until next time…

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	14. Black Out

**AN**: And here we go with another update. I'm sitting here wondering what I'm going to write… I think I know. But I'm pretty much letting my muses go with this one… It's that kind of story. Marshall and Nero work very well together.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

Nero parked the truck in the driveway, cutting off the engine. Marshall turned to Chris, dark eyes narrowed in rage.

"Chris, you will come with me. Candy, Nero, you two will stay here," Marshall stated. Candy nodded, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them. Marshall's eyes softened for a moment.

"We will bring your cousin back to you, Candace," he said. Candy nodded, looking at her feet. Marshall looked at Nero, who opened his mouth to say something. Marshall stopped him, leaning in and kissing him harshly, forcing his way into Nero's mouth. Nero let out a soft moan and began to kiss him back before Marshall pushed away.

"We will be back."

With that said, Marshall and Chris climbed out of the truck, making their way across John's front yard, moving toward the back with efficiency. Candy climbed into the front seat, sitting with Nero.

"Everything will be fine, Candy," Nero said. Candy's green eyes looked to where the two men had disappeared.

"It'd better be…"

**BehindTheFacade**

John cried out his release as he spilled inside Mike once more, the blond almost unconscious from the torture he had endured. Various spots on his body were bleeding, though some appeared to be stopping. Welts and bruises littered his body, some shaped like fingerprints, some shaped like the studs from John's belt. John pulled back, looking at his handiwork with a smirk before he sighed.

"Well, now that I've finally shut you up, I'm going to get a drink."

John then cleaned himself off, his own semen and Mike's blood staining what had been Mike's shirt before he pulled on his pants, walking up the stairs. Mike lay there, whimpering softly, though no sound came out. Mike absently wondered if he'd be able to talk again. He tugged slightly at the ropes holding him, wincing as the bonds dug into the spots that he had rubbed raw in his attempt to get out of the ropes.

Meanwhile, John fixed himself a glass of water, smiling slightly as he gazed at his backyard through the window. Now Mike knew that crossing John had been a bad idea. A horrific idea, even. It wasn't often John casted himself as the villain, but this time, he thought he needed to. It had, after all, worked so well.

He put the glass in the sink and turned back toward the basement door, frowning when a soft click caught his attention. He turned toward the back door just as two men pushed their way through. Chris stood there, his eyes confused, then suddenly clear. A darker man stood there, radiating rage and disgust. John knew him.

"… M-Marshall?" he asked, his eyes suddenly wide with fear.

"Where is he?" Marshall snapped, his voice conveying nothing. Chris, on the other hand looked like he was about to try to snap John's neck.

"W-Where's who?" John asked, trying to play dumb. His heart beat faster as Marshall took a step toward him.

"You bloody well know exactly who I am talking about," he snarled. John tried to stop himself, but was unable to prevent his eyes from glancing at the basement door. Chris, however, noticed and dove for the door, shoving John into Marshall, who let out a dark chuckle.

"I am going to enjoy this," Marshall said. He then grabbed John by his hair and proceeded to force the man to walk down the stairs with him.

The sight that greeted him nearly had Marshall's stomach revolting. Chris looked like he was about to faint.

The basement was bare of anything, except a table. Strapped onto the table with frayed ropes was Mike, his body naked, covered in blood and bruises. His eyes were closed, as though he had passed out, and a combination of red and white stained his thighs and the table under him. Under the ropes, Marshall and Chris could see the red outlines where Mike had struggled to get loose. Chris looked at Mike, stepping forward. He frowned as he nearly slipped on something, kneeling down to see a screwdriver, the tip stained a reddish-brown from the blood. He glanced next to the table, seeing a knife with the same color on its tip. Chris stood, turning blazing blue eyes to John. John tried to get away from Marshall, who held him still.

"You fucking bastard!"

Before anyone could react, Chris pulled his fist back, decking John in the face. Marshall hadn't let go of John's hand, but the force behind the blow was so extreme that John ended up freed from his grasp anyway, his hair ripped out slightly as he hit the floor. Chris immediately jumped on him, holding him down with one hand and punching him repeatedly with the other. Marshall watched for a moment before rolling his eyes, grabbing Chris and pulling him off. Chris tried to fight Marshall, who merely held him tighter.

"Get a hold of yourself, Jericho!" Marshall snapped. "Mike needs you more than you need to deal with John. Get him out of those ropes while I go upstairs to find something for him to wear outside. I will also bring something down to clean him up with…" Marshall let Chris go, watching him closely to be sure that the blond wouldn't attack John again. Chris looked at John, his lip curled up slightly, before he moved over to Mike, gently handling the younger man and getting the bonds off. Marshall turned his eyes to John.

"And you. I am not going to turn you over to the police. However, I am going to make a call to a rather close friend of mine. He can decide what he would like to do with you. If you move from this room, I will subject you to torture you could not even begin to imagine. You will stay here, even if I have to tie you down. Do not move until I return."

John nodded, his eyes wide, hair thrown all over the place, and nose bleeding. Marshall gave him a look of disgust before walking up the stairs. John looked as though he was thinking about what to do. Chris was carefully brushing Mike's hair away from his face, completely ignoring John. John started to shift, but stopped. Marshall was serious… He continued to debate on what to do.

Chris, on the other hand, was fighting tears. He gently lifted Mike's body, kissing the younger man's forehead.

"I'm so sorry, Mike. I never knew anything like this would happen to you… I'm sorry I wasn't there…"

He continued to apologize to Mike, even after Marshall walked down with a pair of loose sweatpants and a zip-up sweatshirt. He looked at Mike and sighed.

"We have to get him to the hospital," Marshall stated. Chris looked at Marshall before looking at Morrison.

"What about him?" Chris asked. Marshall turned his head to look at him.

"I do not want the police to find out he was involved at all… We will take him out to Nero and have Nero hold onto him. I will handle the rest. Just stay here for a minute," Marshall said. Chris nodded, carefully wiping the worst of Mike's wounds with the soft rag that Marshall brought down with him. Marshall grabbed John, smirking.

"Do not worry, John," he said. "Your house will not be involved at all. Not. One. Bit."

With that, Marshall made John walk next to him as they walked outside the door, making it appear for the entire world that John was walking on his own and that they were friends. Marshall didn't need any nosey neighbors coming over to start looking. He opened the door to the truck and threw John in the back.

"Buckle up, you piece of shit. Nero, I am going to stay here. Chris will be bringing Mike out in a minute. Candace, you can sit on the other side of me, in the back. Chris will need to hold Mike, and I do not want you to sit next to this man."

Nero and Candy nodded, the child carefully avoiding meeting the eyes of a man she had once liked. A few minutes later, Chris came out, carrying Mike, who was covered with the sweatshirt. Nothing looked as though it was seeping through.

Marshall opened the front door for them, and Chris paused long enough to let Candy jump out. Chris climbed in, carefully arranging Mike so that he looked as though he were sleeping on Chris. Chris wished it was so, but he couldn't continue to hold Mike. If he did, they would get pulled over.

Chris blinked when he heard the back door close, grabbing his own door and closing it.

"Nero, the hospital. We will drop off Chris and Mike there. You and I will take care of John," Marshall said. Nero didn't move the car.

"Candy goes with Chris then," he said, looking at Marshall. Marshall looked at Chris.

"Mike will probably need surgery," he said. Nero gasped softly. "Candy can keep Chris company."

Nero nodded, as did Candy, before the truck pulled out of the driveway. Marshall was still holding onto John, and Chris was watching Mike.

_Please, God… Please let him be okay…_

**TBC**

**AN**: The torture is over! But, is this the end for our lovers? Stay tuned!

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	15. Savior

**AN**: So, that last chapter was incredibly dark. This one is a bit more cheery, but will mostly be Mike reflecting while floating in and out of consciousness. Also, I bought The Marine 2 today, and I told myself that I wasn't allowed to watch it until I got some updates up. Thus, the updates now. WOO!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

The steady beep of the monitor attached to Mike was all that was keeping Chris sane. He sat next to Mike, Candy lying with her cousin, and held his hand, just watching him. He had prayed for he didn't know how long for Mike to wake up, but the doctor said that it could take a while for him to wake up. There was some tearing from the rapes, and Mike was going to be battered and bruised for a while, but pending his mental state, he should be clear to wrestle in a few weeks. Chris hadn't even called Vince yet.

A few hours after Mike got out of his three hour surgery to fix the internal bleeding they had found – which turned out to be much less serious than they had thought – Nero and Marshall had walked in. Once Nero got the information from the doctor, he made the call to Vince, informing the Chairman that Mike was in the hospital and telling him that Mike would tell Vince what had happened. Vince had stated that he would make some kind of announcement concerning the Unified Tag Team Championships on RAW.

Mike fought everything. He fought the pain, the pain killers, the bleeding, the gentle touch he could feel against him, the rough, yet kind hand holding his. It felt like everything he knew was thrown away after the violent beating he had sustained at the hands of a man who he thought had loved him at one point. He made an effort to swallow, feeling a sandpaper like sensation as saliva dribbled down his scratched and torn throat. He felt that touch next to him shift, then two small hands on his chest.

"Mike?! Mikey!"

The voice was familiar, but he felt as though he was hearing it through a haze. The hand holding his tightened slightly.

"Candy, don't rush him," came another voice, this one gentle, familiar. It had a hint of a southern accent to it. Mike's exhausted brain tried to place it.

"_Petit ange_, come here, please." That British accent… It was familiar too. Mike let out a soundless groan as he shifted slightly, the other weight on the bed disappearing.

"Mike…"

Chris. It all came rushing back. The small voice, the southern voice, the British one. Candy, Nero, and Marshall. They were all here? Mike's eyes started to open, but he gasped soundlessly as he was assaulted with the bright lights of the hospital. He felt a hand brush his hair back.

"Take it slow, Mike… Take it slow."

Mike did as Chris asked, his eyes opening slowly as his pupils adjusted to the difference in light. When they were all the way open, he shifted, aiming to sit up.

"No, don't," came Nero's voice. Mike looked toward it, seeing the smaller man at the foot of the bed. "Let Chris sit the bed up, okay?" Mike nodded slightly, and Chris pushed a button on the side of the bed, sitting it up for Mike. Mike sighed softly, looking around. Standing behind Nero's chair was Marshall, Candy held in his arms. Her green eyes were bright with tears, and she had a few tear tracks on her face. He looked beside him, and there sat Chris. His hair was in disarray, more than usual, and his blue eyes were bloodshot. Mike couldn't tell if this was from lack of sleep or tears. He moved his hand, gently cupping Chris' cheek. Chris leaned into the touch, sighing softly. Mike's eyes caught the fading red marks on his wrist and proceeded to look himself over.

He couldn't see what was under the hospital gown, but he had a sick feeling he would be wearing a shirt until it faded. He saw that his arms were red in various places, but whatever had been done there was healing nicely. His legs looked mostly unharmed, just a few bruises that could be explained by tripping. He sighed softly, a soft noise coming out. He frowned and looked at Chris, touching his throat.

"The doctor said that your throat was tender and swollen. He said it may be hard for you to talk for the next couple of days, but it shouldn't be more than a week before we can't shut you up again," Chris said, a slight smile cracking his face. Mike grinned, letting out a soundless laugh before he smirked at Chris, his face showing more bravado than he felt. He held onto Chris' hand, looking at Marshall and Nero. He mouthed something, and Nero frowned, moving his fingers. Mike then remembered that Nero knew sign language, courtesy of working with a deaf younger brother.

Mike struggled to peace his memory together, but could only remember letters.

_J… O… H… N_

Nero nodded in realization and looked up at Marshall.

"Marshall took him to a friend of his. The friend is going to make sure he doesn't see you again. Vince said that he'll figure out how this will impact the titles," Nero said. Mike nodded, sighing softly and leaning back on his pillows. Surprisingly, he didn't feel vulnerable or weak. Well, he felt weak due to the injuries, but not weak like most people who went through this kind of thing were. He felt like he was a stronger person now. After all, Chris and Marshall and Nero had all come to his rescue. That had to mean something, right? Mike was about to go back to sleep, to let more of the pain disappear, when he heard Chris speak.

"I'm sorry Mike… I never thought any of this would happen. If I had, I would have been there for you," he said. Mike frowned, pulling slightly on Chris' hand. Chris seemed to understand and moved closer to Mike. The younger blond leaned up slightly, closing the distance between their faces, kissing Chris softly, sweetly. Chris blinked in surprise, but couldn't help but kiss him back. After a moment, Mike let his head fall back. He moved his fingers, and Nero watched.

"He said not to feel bad and that it wasn't your fault," Nero translated. Chris looked at Mike, who nodded. Chris smiled.

"Alright, fine. I'll stop… Go to sleep, Mike. We'll be here when you wake up," Chris said. Mike nodded, moving his fingers again. Nero beamed.

"He said, 'I love you'." Chris' eyes widened and he looked at Mike for clarification. The blond nodded, and Chris smiled, kissing him once more.

"I love you too."

**TBC**

**AN**: As great as this is, and I could so end it here… I'm not going to. After all, I have to explain what happens to John, don't I? Yes. I. Do! Sooo, that's it for now anyway.

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	16. Recovering

**AN**: So... It's 1 AM... my head and back hurt... and I was suddenly struck with inspiration to write instead of sleep. Who needs the mess anyway, right? Sleep? What's that? I'm so gonna get Marshall for this later... This may be the last chapter, but I'm not sure on that yet. It depends on how Marshall wants it to play out.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

Over the next few days, Chris stayed with Mike, only having to leave once to record a promo. The hospital got RAW, which is what the promo would be aired on, so Mike was able to watch it on Monday. Nero and Candy couldn't stay as much as they wanted to, due to Candy's studies, but they were there when they could be. Marshall was in and out repeatedly, sometimes gone all night. Nero didn't seem bothered by it, but Mike was curious. After all, the Englishman was furious about what John had done.

Monday came around, and Mike found himself able to whisper things. His voice was coming back, but he was suddenly glad that he didn't have to be on RAW that night. He never would have been able to use his mic skills right. When Chris' promo came up, they both settled back on Mike's bed to watch it.

The scene opened with Chris standing in front of the red curtains. He looked unhappy, but Mike could also see the exhaustion on his face. They listened to the crowd boo him.

"Shut up, you troglodytes," he hissed, eyes narrowed. "Normally, I would be in the ring talking about this kind of thing, but something else has caught my attention. My tag team partner, The Miz-" here he paused, allowing the WWE Universe to boo for a minute, "is currently in the hospital. Someone-" here, Mike saw Chris' eyes flare with anger, though none of the crowd would be able to really read that emotion - "attacked him viciously the other day. We don't know who it was, or why it was done, but he is recuperating. Starting as soon as he's well enough to wrestle, we're going to come back and settle some old debts."

The camera zoomed out a little bit, revealing a TV screen next to Chris. It turned on, and a picture of The Big Show came up.

"Seeing as The Miz isn't capable of fighting right now, these matches are going to be postponed until he is. However, this is the first of our new victims. Then..." The screen changed again, an image of John Morrison coming up. Mike stiffened in the bed, and Chris squeezed his arm comfortingly.

"John Morrison. Your so-called Friday Night Delight. He's on our list too. Past that? Who knows. It's going to be whoever gets in our way."

A smirk crossed Chris' face as the image faded out into a commercial. Mike looked at Chris as the commercials droned on.

"We're taking on Paul and... him?" Mike asked. Chris grinned.

"Kind of. Vince found out what happened, and since we didn't press charges, he's handling this his way. The match against Paul, we're going to have to work out the details for. The match against John though is a two-on-one, no holds barred. It doesn't seem like much, but we're going to make it look like it can end when Smackdown goes off the air, and then we'll continue it after. He said he won't stop us unless it gets too close to irreparable physical harm. He was pretty pissed off when he found out," Chris said, his fingers gently playing in Mike's hair. Since he hadn't really gotten the chance to get out of bed and do anything with it, it was a little greasy, but it was hanging down slightly, about to the length of his eyes. Not in a bowl cut, but in something that was just cute enough for Chris to not be able to resist.

"What about his title?" Mike rasped. Chris kissed his cheek gently.

"You would focus on that part, wouldn't you?" he teased, delighting in the way Mike smiled back. "He's going to lose it to Drew McIntyre. Funny, huh? Vince said that his push for Drew was going to come a little bit later, probably at TLC when that came around, but now he's going to push him early." Mike nodded, swallowing slightly. He'd be cleared to leave the hospital tomorrow, but when he'd be clear to wrestle, he wasn't sure. He was honestly hoping he could get in a ring soon, even just to see what it was he wasn't going to be able to take. Mike remained silent for a few minutes, only looking at Chris when the older man got his attention.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Chris asked, worry darkening his blue eyes. Mike leaned on his slightly before sighing.

"I don't know what it is I did to him to deserve this," Mike whispered. "I mean... I said stuff, but that's all it ever is, and he knew it before..."

"I don't know," Chris said. "Sometimes people just snap. For some, it's just yelling, maybe a slap, and they snap out of it. I guess for others it's more extreme." Mike stayed quiet for a minute.

"Do you wanna know why... I did what I did to him at the Draft?" Mike asked. Chris blinked. Jack had been heard in the locker room saying that not even he knew why Mike had snapped on John like he head. When the subject came up, Mickie wouldn't say anything, but Jack always tried to deliver theories. Chris figured that if he wouldn't tell Jack, he didn't want anyone to know.

"I guess," Chris said. "If you want to tell me."

So, with a shaky breath and a quiet voice, Mike relived that night, the night that he had thought he was going to die. Holding Chris' hand, however, he was distinctly aware that it wasn't really the end for him. It had felt that way only because of the sheer need he had been harboring to make John love him. He had known at one point or another in their relationship that it wasn't going to work out, but that had been what had really solidified his fears. However, through the entire conversation, Chris didn't judge, didn't speak. He just calmly held Mike's hand, brushing his thumb over the skin there, listening. And when Mike was done? Chris merely held Mike close.

"If you want to be with me, I will never do that to you, Mike. I don't trust anything anyone in that locker room says anyway. I've never turned my back on someone just because of rumors. I won't start now. If I have any doubts, I'll come to you first." Mike smiled, leaning up and pressing a kiss to Chris' lips. Chris reacted before he could control himself, pushing Mike back against the pillows, his mouth dominating the kiss. He didn't force, however, and seemed to get a hold of himself. He started to pull away, but he felt an almost timid arm come around to hold him there.

Chris' kiss turned slightly apologetic, gently teasing and taking his time to really coax Mike to open his mouth to allow Chris' tongue to sweep in and taste him. It worked, because a moment later, Mike's lips parted slightly, his own tongue coming out to taste Chris'. A soft groan of pleasure escaped the younger man as he relinquished complete control to Chris. It was strange to him how safe he felt with Chris. Regardless of what had happened to him, he knew that Chris would be there to protect him now. And that feeling made him feel invincible.

**TBC**

**AN**: Short, but I'm making up for it by posting this one with its next one. So, if you want to review this chapter before going on to the next one, go right ahead. Otherwise, click that little button telling you to go onto the next chapter and ONWARD!

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	17. The Bossman

**AN**: And the next chapter is here!! I did go to sleep between these, and obviously that other chapter wasn't posted at 1 AM, but whatever. Anyway, here we go!!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

Vince didn't look up as his door was knocked on. To be honest, he was furious with the situation surrounding Mike. As great a heel as he was, Mike was actually a nice guy and had somehow managed to touch a rather tender spot in the Chairman. He didn't let anyone know this, of course, and treated him like the other wrestlers, but still. Chris had always been a pretty big favorite of Vince's, especially since he stood by the company no matter what. As for some of the other guys, namely one who had caused all this trouble, Vince could really do without.

"Enter," Vince barked, not looking up from the paper he was reading. His glasses were perched on his nose, something he really couldn't stand, but couldn't deal without. He heard the door slam closed and glanced up, seeing none other than the angry form of John Morrison standing there, a black eye the only evidence that something may have gone down with him. Vince put down the paper and pulled off his glasses, resting them on the paper.

"What the _hell_ are you thinking?! You're going to put me in a two-on-one match against Chris and Mike?!" John snarled, his voice having escalated in volume. Vince, to his credit, didn't even blink. Instead, he focused on the shiner.

"What happened to your eye?" he asked. John's hand moved toward his face before he dropped it, shifting and glaring.

"None of your business," he snapped. Here, the room seemed to drop a few degrees as Vince's eyes hardened.

"Actually, what happens to _my_ Superstars is my business, and I know what happened. A friend of mine actually got in touch with me and let me know exactly what you did," Vince growled. John's face paled visibly. "So, not only are you going to get the shit beat out of you when Mike is approved for wrestling, but you're also going to lose your Intercontinental Championship," Vince said. John's eyes widened and he dropped into a chair, trying to piece this all together.

"What...? But I won the title fair and square!" he said. Vince snorted.

"No, you were given the title because Rey needed surgery. Lucky for you, we managed to find another storyline to put him in before we decided to give him back the title. Now that his storyline is taking off, you're just going to have to lose the title to someone else. But don't worry, that's the least of your concerns. Now get your ass out of my office," Vince stated. John stood up, making his way out of the office kind of dazed. He didn't understand why Vince didn't just fire him there. He closed the door behind him, and Vince shook his head, picking up his glasses. The door opened again.

"Wh-"

Vince was about to snap, until he saw the woman standing there. She shook her head, a smile on her face as she walked over to him, dropping slightly to place a kiss on his cheek before she stood behind him, one hand on his shoulder. One of his hands came up, holding hers.

"Finally told him, hm?" she asked, her voice amused.

"I just told him about his title, Linda," Vince said, a wealth of affection coating his voice. "He found out about the two-on-one match early." Linda nodded, looking over her husband's shoulder with a frown.

"Is that the agreement?" she asked. Vince nodded.

"Yes, it is. I'm taking it to RAW when Mike is cleared to compete, and he'll sign it there. Then, he'll make a big stink about it on Smackdown the night he and Chris face John," Vince said. Linda smiled.

"You are such a teddy bear," she teased. Vince glared at her, though there was no venom behind it.

"You're infuriating, woman."

**BehindTheFacade**

Tuesday morning was when Mike was fully discharged from the hospital. He would have skipped, had his back not been so sore. He couldn't even remember the day of the week when the attack happened, but it had been a few days. His back was only sore like it was after wrestling now. It would be fine in another day or two. Chris had been with him, helping him get into clothes that Nero had brought over from his house. Mike really wanted to get a hot shower and curl up in his own bed.

So, Chris, who was becoming more and more like an angel to Mike, took him back to his own house. Mike was so happy to be home he almost started crying, but did manage to retain some of his dignity. Candy, Nero, and Marshall met all of them there, and they all sat down and talked for a few hours before Mike started falling asleep. When Chris went to leave, Mike told him to stay, that it would make him feel more comfortable with someone else there. So, Chris made them something to eat while Mike took a shower, and all was well. Chris even got to sleep in the same bed as Mike, though nothing happened.

They went back on Wednesday, deciding to talk to the doctor about when Mike could wrestle. The doctor told them that Mike should stay relaxed until at the very earliest, Saturday, and that, if he was fine during his training and work outs, he could wrestle on Monday. The news thrilled both of them, and they decided to take a kind-of vacation on Thursday. Unfortunately, Chris had to be on Smackdown on Friday, so Mike decided it'd be easier to just go with him. So, they packed up and took off for wherever it was Smackdown was from that Friday. Mike stayed at the hotel, watching the show as it went on the air with interest. However, he wasn't prepared for John Morrison's music to hit when Chris was out there.

_Now listen, this ain't no make believe..._

John came out, eyes blazing, making his way down the ramp without any stopping for the usual dramatics when he entered. The fans cheered him, but he ignored them, climbing into the ring.

"Chris... Wait, where's The Miz? I thought that you two were inseparable," John said. The words were obviously not meant for their close ring-relationship. Chris, to his credit, merely raised an eyebrow instead of punching John out right there.

"Miz is recovering from the violent attack on him," Chris said, his voice cold. Mike winced slightly.

"Too bad. I was hoping to get this two-on-one match on tonight." The crowd cheered their approval, but Chris shook his head.

"Too bad, Morrison," Chris snarled back. "It's not going to happen on your terms. See, this kind of a thing doesn't happen on your terms. Matches like this? They happen on my terms-"

Chris was interrupted here by Teddy Long's music. He looked at the ramp, a scowl on his face. John, however, looked at the ramp with a smile. Teddy made his way down, grinning and smiling at the crowd before he got in the ring. Chris had a feeling that, since he was interrupted, this was all just to fill in the time.

"Actually, playa," Teddy said when his music went quiet. "Matches like this don't happen on your terms. Matches like this happen on my terms." The crowd cheered, thinking Teddy behind John. John grinned, nodding.

"Here's what we could do: A match tonight between Intercontinental Champion, John Morrison-" he paused for the crowd - "and one half of the Unified Tag Team Champions, Chris Jericho! The winner will be the one with a teammate come next week," Teddy said. Chris fell into that angry character quickly.

"Teddy, you can't do that!" he snapped.

"Actually, I can playa, and it's of-"

_No chance, that's what ya got..._

Before Teddy could get the word out, Vince McMahon strode down the ramp, a pleasant (enough) smile on his face, mic in hand. He climbed into the ring, looking at the Superstars in the ring before he faced Teddy.

"Teddy, you are aware, you're still on probation," he started. Teddy looked a little peeved at this repeatedly being brought up, but he wisely nodded.

"Yes sir, I am aware," he agreed. Vince nodded for a moment before continuing. "And you cannot change this match, because I scheduled this match. And I want to see it. So, next week, the main event will be a two on one handicapped match, no holds barred, between the Intercontinental Champion, John Morrison and the Unified Tag Team Champions, Chris Jericho, and The Miz!"

The crowd had mixed reactions, cheers and boos filling the arena as Vince's music did. Besides, when Vince came out, that was that. Teddy and John both looked disappointed, but Chris smirked, holding the ropes apart for Vince and following the Chairman out of the ring. Teddy patted John's back and seemed to be talking to him, though Mike was sure it was all just for the TV. With a sigh, he pushed his duffel bag off the bed, thinking over the whole situation quietly.

At the end of the show, barely a half hour after, Chris would be back, and Mike could put this whole thing behind him for the weekend. Then, he'd be ready for RAW. He just needed the weekend...

**TBC**

**AN**: That one... This is probably the longest chapter in the entire story so far. Next chapter, The Miz returns to RAW. Also, the paper that Vince was talking about was that... No Harm (?) agreement, like the one Rey and Batista signed. If anyone can tell me what the _actual _name of this agreement is before I write the next chapter, I'd greatly appreciate it.

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	18. Fearless

**AN**: So, as promised, here are some updates for today! Thanks to **Blazing Glory** who told me the closest thing I could find to the actual name of that legal document. We're going to say it's a Hold Harmless agreement, basically insuring that John Morrison cannot sue Mike or Chris for any damage done and all that biz, mkay? Alrighty then. Time to get moving! Oh, before I forget, depending on how this chapter goes, this story could be wrapping up, or it could be moving into another couple of chapters. I may be able to tell you at the end, but we'll see what happens.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

That Monday, Chris and Mike showed up at the arena together. Mike was feeling much better than he had been, but he wasn't sure if it was a good idea for him to wrestle tonight. Luckily, he was approached by Vince shortly after arrival.

"Mike!" came the voice, making the United States Champion jump and turn. He smiled in mild relief when he saw Vince.

"Vince, hi," he said. Vince smiled, putting his arm around Mike's shoulders.

"How are ya feeling?" he asked. Mike shrugged slightly.

"Pretty good. I'm still sore, so wrestling might be hard if I have to do it tonight, but I'll manage." Vince chuckled.

"I like that you're willing to fight anyway. However, I'm thinking that tonight will be the signing of the Hold Harmless agreement for the match on Friday," he said. Mike's blue eyes widened, and Chris put a hand on his arm.

"Vince, does that mean that Morrison is here?"

Chris' voice had dropped slightly, a barely contained shimmer of rage radiating out in his voice. Vince met Chris' gaze and nodded.

"Yes, he is, but he won't be bothering you," Vince said, his own tone angry. "I'm making sure of that. You two will come out for the signing and there will be some bashing, bringing the heat up, when he gets out there. Then, if it gets too bad, I've got a couple of people that have offered to come out to make sure it doesn't get bad." Mike nodded, smiling at the Chairman as he bid them farewell and moved to find whoever it was that Vince needed to find.

"Hey, it'll be alright, Mike," Chris said, squeezing the younger man's shoulder comfortingly. Mike looked at Chris, smiling and leaning on him.

"I know," he replied, kissing Chris sweetly. Then, the mood changed.

"Oh, my God," came a familiar voice that made Mike groan. "I so knew it! Pay up, Swagger!"

"Damn it, Mickie. One of these days, I'll learn it's not good to bet against you," came Jack's voice. Mike grinned at Chris before turning to face his two best friends. Mickie was dressed in a pair of black dress pants, a white top with frills around the collar adorning her torso. She moved quickly, wrapping her arms around Mike's neck tightly. Jack walked up behind her, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a dark red button down shirt, a grin on his features.

"Mike, we missed you so much. Are you alright?" Mickie asked, pulling back to look at him. She looked at Mike's clothes, her expression hard to read. Mike wore a pair of dark blue jeans, the bottoms covering the top of his black shoes. He wore a red button down as well, though the sleeves were rolled up and buttoned, revealing his forearms. Over the shirt was a black vest. He smiled slightly, and that was when Mickie noticed what had changed.

"Holy shit, you put your fedora back on," Jack said before Mickie could. Mike blinked, his fingers coming up to touch the black fedora on his head, the sparkling flame design on it catching the light. He laughed, nodding.

"Yeah. I missed it, you know?" he said. Mickie looked at Chris, smiling at him.

"We've had our differences, Chris, but whatever it was you did, thanks. We missed our Mike," she said. Chris put his hands up, shrugging.

"I didn't do anything," he said. "I was just there when he needed me."

**BehindTheFacade**

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, the Unified Tag Team Champions, Chris Jericho and the United States Champion, The Miz!"

_Break the walls down!_

The duo came out to Chris' music, mainly because the sound crew had yet to come up with a creative way to mix their music together. Mike had left his fedora in the back, and held the Unified Tag Team Championships above his head, the United States Championship around his waist. Chris had one belt on his shoulder, the other around his waist. He kept walking, even though Mike stopped to play to the crowd a little before joining his partner in the ring. They posed again in the ring, Mike climbing onto the second rope and holding his belts up with his usual smirk. He had been afraid that being back out here in front of all these people would be hard after the attack, but he found that it was actually helping his psych more than the expected. His fans were helping, even those who couldn't stand him. It was all really invigorating.

He and Chris sat down, putting their tag team titles on either side of them. Mike, however, left the United States Championship around his waist, his fingers touching the cool gold for comfort. Chris leaned over and began to whisper things to Mike, things that didn't make any sense at all, to make it look as though they were having a conversation. Unfortunately for Mike, he couldn't bring himself to look away from the ramp. What would happen when John was in the ring??

"And now, please welcome, from Smackdown... The Intercontinental Champion, John Morrison!"

_Now listen, this ain't no make believe..._

John came out, smiling, playing to the crowd. He came out in a pair of blue jeans, his new t-shirt on his torso. He held up the title triumphantly, his hair flying back as he moved in what appeared to be slow-mo. Then, he made his way down the ramp and into the ring, his eyes meeting Mike's behind the sunglasses. Mike stood up, the two champions glaring at one another across the table. John held up the Intercontinental Championship, no doubt trying to get as many pictures with him with it before he lost it. Mike then smirked, pulling off the United States Championship, holding it up triumphantly. The crowd didn't cheer, but he didn't care. John finally sat down, and Jerry moved in.

"Alright. You three are here to sign this Hold Harmless agreement for the main event on Smackdown on Friday. By signing this, you cannot hold anyone in this agreement responsible for damage you may take during the mat-"

Jerry was cut off as Chris grabbed is mic.

"May take, Lawler?" he asked, moving his eyes from John to Jerry. Mike and John's stare down still hadn't ended. "No, Lawler. John Morrison _will_ sustain some damage next week. Who knows? Maybe we'll even retire him next week."

"Let's just... sign the agreement," Jerry said, handing the clipboard to Chris first. Chris grabbed the pen, flipping to the last page and signing his name. He then put the clipboard in front of Mike.

"Mike, sign it," he whispered, making sure that the ring mics didn't pick him up. Mike blinked, then moved his eyes from Morrison and grabbed his mic.

"You know, John... I tried to tell you that we could be an excellent tag team again... But you just don't have what it takes. You're washed up," Mike stated, looking down and signing the agreement where he was supposed to. He then shoved the clipboard to John.

"And you can't hurt me."

It might have been an odd statement to make on live TV, but for a select few, they knew exactly what Mike was talking about. But the way that John's shoulders tensed, they knew that he understood exactly what Mike was talking about. John took the contract and the pen, signing the document before handing it to Jerry.

"It's official then! Friday night, the match is on!"

The crowd cheered, and Mike and Chris stood up, moving their belts. John stood as well, putting his belt over his shoulder, then grabbing the table and flipping it onto Chris and Mike. Chris fell over, and Mike fell backwards, hitting the middle rope and falling out of the ring. He groaned, shaking his head and trying to stand up, but unable to do so. The landing had knocked the breath out of him. Before he could try to get up, John had threw himself over the top rope, landing on Mike again, rolling up to his feet. He went to grab Mike, only to have one of Chris' feet land in his face. He spun backwards, his hand immediately grabbing at his face as he leaned on the announcer's table to try to get his balance. Chris moved after John, however, grabbing John and slamming his head down on the announce table. Vaguely, he heard Michael Cole say something about how this was falling apart, but he didn't care. Mike stood up, blue eyes hard with rage. Chris held John as Mike walked up. John glared at Mike, then punched him right in the face. Somewhere in his head, he realize that the punch could have made the excuse for the black eye that John had, that was probably going to be a little bigger now.

Chris' music hit again as the tag team champions stood over John. They left him there, grabbing their belts and walking up the ramp. In his head, Mike could hear what Michael Cole said next.

"_I don't think that quite went how John Morrison wanted it to go, but The Miz and Chris Jericho seem to have it all under control_."

**TBC**

**AN**: As of right now, I only see this being a few more chapters long. It's definitely wrapping up. Next chapter, we go to Friday Night Smackdown!!

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


	19. Love

**AN**: So, I know it's been a while, but the motivation to update just hasn't been there. It's coming back, and even if it doesn't I can use force. Anywho, this one is wrapping up, pretty rapidly, to be honest. Actually, this is the last chapter. I was originally going to stretch it to two chapters, but I hated the way that this one was going to end, so I rewrote it. Chris and Mike may be slightly out of character here, but what can I say? They're overly emotional right now. Anyway, I'll shut up so that you can read now.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**BehindTheFacade**

After RAW, Mike and Chris went and began to travel with Smackdown. They already were, but due to the week that Mike had off, or roughly a week anyway, they had to get back into the swing of things. Mike had been pretty happy to see his ECW friends, including Christian, who he spent a good three hours hanging out and talking with. Then, he ran into Tommy Dreamer, and the four of them – Chris, Christian, Tommy, and Mike – all went out to dinner and talked for most of the night. It was only when Chris saw Mike's eyes start to get heavy that he told them that they should probably get some rest.

That was Tuesday. Wednesday, they spent relaxing at the hotel, just killing some time. There were no house shows, no live performances, nothing to hinder them from enjoying it. Well, almost nothing. Chris had to talk for a little bit with his Fozzy band mates, but that had only taken about an hour. After that, Mike and Chris just talked.

Then, out of nowhere, Mike changed the subject.

"You're curious about what really happened down there, aren't you?"

Chris was surprised at the change of topic, but he knew exactly what Mike was talking about. He shrugged slightly.

"Well, yeah, but if you don't wanna talk about it, then we won't," Chris said. Mike bit his lip and then took a breath.

"No, you should know. I went out for ice cream with Nero and Candy, and then the next thing I knew, there was this rag on my mouth and I passed out. I woke up, and I was strapped to that table... None of it made sense, but then I saw it was John. At first, it was all just talking, verbal abuse. I can handle that. I'm not bothered by what people say... Well, not anymore. He kept bringing up the past, calling me a whore again..." Mike trailed off, and Chris had to remind himself the story he was told. Nero had given him a quick background on what happened during the break up between Mike and John so that Chris better understood the situation. He did know, however, that John called Mike a whore and Mike had thought some pretty suicidal things during that time. Chris took Mike's hand, holding it comfortingly. They were only sitting in the hotel room with a couple of room service beers, but Chris was glad it was as private as this. Mike offered a slight smile and then continued.

"There were some slaps in between the words, but nothing I couldn't handle. It was a lot like being in the ring, I guess... When someone gets really made and breaks script and really hurts you. So, I didn't... really think it would go any further. Then, he hit me with his belt. He's got this belt with studs, like Jeff wears... Except Jeff wears the plastic ones, and J... _he_ wears the metal ones..." Mike broke off and lifted his shirt, looking at the red marks that still marred his skin. They had been bruises, but were now red, almost like someone had squeezed him a little too hard. Mike dropped his shirt and sighed.

"Then something just snapped. I don't know what he was thinking, I don't know what I did to make him sna-... Okay, I probably pissed him off. Somewhere in the torture, I realized that... I used The Miz to hide my feelings, to hide the pain. Sure, I use him for the ring-me, but... I was starting to lose myself behind the facade of The Miz. I realized, however, that I loved you and that you saw past that mask, that shield I put up. So, I just... was me. And then, he raped me... repeatedly... God, so much... It hurt so bad..." Mike stopped, a sob ripping from his throat as he choked on the words. Chris felt his eyes water, tears falling before he could help it. He pulled Mike to him, holding the younger man in his arms, rubbing his back, allowing Mike to cry. He hated that it had taken him so long to get to Mike, that Mike had to undergo so much before Chris could get to him.

"God, Mike... I'm sorry... I..." Chris couldn't speak, couldn't figure out what he wanted to say. The two of them sat there, sobs shaking Mike's body as he tried to control it enough to speak. He couldn't stop now. Chris had to know everything.

"He... he hit me... in between the rapes... and grabbed a screwdriver... He just dragged it along my skin... over and over until it ripped the skin... and then he grabbed a knife... putting it against a spot and turning it until it ripped the skin... I screamed and screamed... but no one came..."

"Mike, I tried... I wanted to get to you so bad..." Chris tried to explain, but Mike lifted his head, watery, luminescent blue eyes meeting Chris' own shining blue eyes.

"And then I just closed my eyes... and when I opened them, I was out of there... and you were there with me. You saved me, Chris..." Mike's hand came up, resting on Chris' cheek. Chris leaned his head into that warm palm, knowing in that one gesture that Mike didn't blame him for any of it. Mike then leaned up, pressing his lips against Chris'.

It was meant to be a simple, chaste kiss, one to tell Chris how much Mike loved him, how much Mike forgave him for being a little late, and how thankful Mike was that Chris was even there. But the moment their lips touched, fire raced through Mike's veins, lightning arcing in the air between them. The kiss grew more heated, more passionate, and neither could help themselves. Chris' tongue teased the seam of Mike's lips, and Mike was unable to resist letting Chris delve into his mouth, parting his lips. Chris's tongue dove forward, tasting the sweetness that was Mike's mouth. Mike let out a soft groan of pleasure as Chris' tongue tasted his mouth. Chris' hands were holding Mike up, and Mike's arms were around Chris' neck.

It was only when their lungs were burning for oxygen that they pulled away, eyes meeting. However, Chris moved his lips to Mike's neck, placing tender kisses there. Mike's eyes fell closed, and he tilted his head back, giving the blond better access to the tender flesh.

"Mike... I love you anyway," Chris whispered into the flesh. "I love you so much, and this doesn't change anything. If you don't want to rush into this, then we'll wait." Chris lifted his head, lust-filled eyes meeting Mike's. Mike searched his eyes for a minute, only seeing honesty and love there. Then Mike kissed Chris once more.

"I'm not rushing into anything with you, Chris," Mike said. "You won't hurt me."

They exchanged another heated kiss, Chris gently laying Mike down on the bed and pulling his shirt off the slender body. Mike's breath caught in his throat when Chris started a slow trail of kisses down his body, pausing to tease and flick at Mike's nipples with his tongue. Mike groaned, his fingers weaving through Chris' hair. Chris' fingers moved down, slowly unbuttoning Mike's jeans, carefully letting Mike know what it was he was doing. Mike didn't panic, and seemed perfectly calm, so Chris placed kisses on Mike's torso, lowering the pants and boxers to the ground.

Mike gasped in surprised pleasure when Chris' lips touched the oozing tip of his cock, kissing the weeping head. Chris opened his mouth, taking the hard organ in his mouth, causing Mike to cry out in pleasure. The flat part of Chris' tongue pressed against the oozing slit, before it moved around his dick, taking all of the thick, long organ in his mouth. He moved back, slicking his cock with saliva. Mike groaned when Chris' tongue traced the thick vein before moving off of his dick. Chris stood, pulling his shirt over his head, carefully pulling off his jeans as well. His hard cock sprung up, and Mike sat up, his eyes on the swollen head. He started to reach out, his eyes moving up to Chris, almost as though asking permission. Chris' heart skipped a beat, and his breathing became irregular at the look in Mike's eyes, and he nodded.

Mike's warm hand came out, tentatively touching Chris' dick, relishing in the way that Chris groaned and closed his eyes when it wrapped around Chris' dick. Mike stroked the hardened organ, slowly, up and down, the iron velvet feel making him smile. The smile left his face as he leaned forward, opening his mouth and taking Chris in his mouth. Chris grunted softly, biting his lip to prevent from thrusting into Mike's mouth. Mike moaned softly around it, moving back and forth, bobbing on Chris' dick. His hand moved, cradling Chris' heavy balls, rubbing and massaging them. Chris groaned, his head going back as Mike lubed his dick up with his own saliva. Chris ran his hands through Mike's hair, carefully making sure he didn't grip Mike's hair to make Mike feel as though he was being forced to do it.

"Mike... wait..." Chris groaned. Mike blinked, but pulled back, looking at Chris. Chris sat on the bed, putting his fingers on Mike's lips. "Suck my fingers... I want to prep you, make sure you're ready."

Mike felt himself almost turn red, but he managed to squash that feeling. He opened his mouth, his lips going around Chris' two fingers, his tongue teasing the pads as he kept his eyes on Chris'. Chris watched Mike's mouth, groaned as Mike nibbled on his fingers. After a few minutes of this, Chris gently laid Mike down, one spit-slick finger pushing into Mike's tight hole. Mike winced and tensed up, but Chris was next to him, kissing his neck by his ear, whispering to him.

"Relax, Mike... I won't hurt you..."

The soothing, melodic quality to Chris' voice kept Mike calm, and he relaxed, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of Chris' fingers stretching him, the two inside him scissoring and teasing. When Chris finally decided Mike was ready, he laid on his back, lifting Mike to straddle him.

"What...?" Mike asked, looking at Chris. Chris looked at him, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles around Mike's hips, where his hands were holding the younger Superstar.

"I don't want to freak you out by being over you. Ride me, Mike," Chris said. Mike smiled at Chris, taking Chris' cock in his hand and guiding it to his pucker, lowering himself on Chris. As Mike felt the tip, he moved faster, impaling himself on Chris' cock. Both of them cried out at the feeling, Mike at the feeling of Chris' huge cock stretching him, and Chris at the feeling of Mike's tight ass squeezing around him. Mike groaned and lifted himself up, beginning a slow ride on Chris' dick. Chris groaned, his head staying on the bed as Mike threw his head back. He would go up, then back down, and grinding his hips on Chris' cock. Up. Down. Grind. Repeat.

Chris took Mike's dick in his hand, jerking it off as Mike rode him. Then, Mike tensed up, crying out again. Chris grunted, biting his lip to prevent himself from cumming. Apparently, Mike had just brushed Chris' dick against his prostate. Mike began to bounce, aiming his bounces so that Chris' cock hit his prostate every time. Chris began to jerk Mike off in time with Mike's bounces. Mike's breath came out in pants, and Chris' name falling from his lips. Chris began to thrust upward, into the warmth of Mike's tight ass. Mike screamed Chris' name as he came back down, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Mike came in Chris' hand, his cum splashing against his abs. Chris thrust upward once more and came as well, flooding Mike so that it leaked down onto his own dick. Mike moved off of Chris, falling onto the bed next to him. He looked at Chris, a small smile on his face.

"I love you too, Chris..." Mike muttered, pressing his lips to Chris' neck. Chris smiled at Mike, holding him close.

**BehindTheFacade**

Friday came too fast for Mike's taste. The next thing he knew, he was in the black and blue ring gear of Team Ego, the United States belt around his waist, the Unified Tag Team Championships next to him. Mickie stood in front of him, helping him to fix his hair. Beth stood next to him, her new black and green ring gear on her. She had already had her match, a match against local competition, which Beth and won. There was a match on now, though Mike couldn't remember for the life of him who was fighting, and they were on next. Mike had been hiding out with Beth and Mickie for most of the show, terrified he might see John.

"Mike, you need to calm down," Beth stated, her voice calm, as Mickie moved away from him. Beth nodded her approval of Mike's hair.

"I'm trying... but I've been avoiding John since Monday, and I don't really want to see him tonight," Mike said. Mickie knelt in front of him, taking his hands.

"Mike, tonight is about your revenge. You get to do whatever you want to to him tonight, and he can't do anything back to you. If he even tries to, Chris will be right there, and you know it," she said. Mike bit his lip, looking down.

"Yeah," said a voice from behind them. "I'll kill him if he touches you."

The three looked over, catching sight of Chris. He had the World Tag Team Championship around his waist, the WWE Tag Team Championship resting on his shoulder. He was watching Mike, his eyes concerned. "It's no DQ. He just has to submit or be pinned, and that's it. If he comes too close to you, I'm taking him out." Mike felt a smile come to his lips, and he nodded.

"You're right, Chris," Mike said, looking over at his lover. Mickie looked between them and bounced up to Chris.

"Mike, I'm stealing Chris for just a second," she said, looping her arm with the older man, before gently tugging him outside the room. She heard Beth jokingly ask Mike if she should be jealous, and a smile tugged at her lips as she heard Mike laugh.

"Chris, I know you really care for him. I know that, but..." Mickie trailed off before meeting his eyes. Chris saw the glint in her eye that reminded him of her early days in the WWE, and knew then, for a fact, that the 'psycho' Mickie who had started in this industry wasn't just a character. "If you hurt him, I'll fucking kill you."

Chris stared at the petite Diva for a minute before kissing her forehead.

"Mickie, I really like you too. I've considered you a little sister for a while now. If Beth hurts you, I'll kill her. But, all joking aside, I'm not going to hurt Mike. I'm going to do the exact opposite and protect him from now on. I promise," he said. Mickie seemed to be thinking this over for a minute, and then snorted.

"Like you could take Beth..." she muttered as she walked back into the room, all smiles once more.

"Ready, Mike?" she asked. Mike nodded and stood up, grabbing the tag belts and walking with Chris to the gorilla position. The two stood there as Tony Chimel declared the winner of the match that was in progress, and talked quietly when the competitors walked back.

"God, I can't believe you did this to me," came a voice from behind them. Mike froze, but Chris turned, a sneer on his face as he met the eyes of John Morrison. The man had the Intercontinental Championship on his shoulder, over the thick white and black jacket that matched his ring gear.

"Shut the fuck up, Morrison," Chris snapped. Before he could continue, a thick British accent broke the soon-to-be argument up.

"Mike."

Mike blinked and turned, looking at the tall man standing behind John. John whipped around, going a little pale as the almost black eyes looked at him. A smirk was all that was needed for John to move out of the way.

"Marshall? How'd you get back here?" he asked.

"I am good friends with Vince. I just wanted to let you know that I will be joining Nero and Candace in the audience, alright? We are all rooting for you..." Marshall stopped and looked at John. "Not that you need it to beat this scum."

John was saved by his music hitting, and he almost ran out toward the ring as Tony declared the following match a two-on-one, no disqualification, handicapped match scheduled for one fall.

"Making his way to the ring, from Los Angeles, California, weighing two hundred and twenty-three pounds... he is the Intercontinental Champion... John Morrison!"

John walked out, and Mike looked at Chris, who smiled.

"You're going to be fine, Mike," he whispered. Mike looked more like he was going to be sick. Chris pulled Mike to him, capturing the younger man's lips with his and kissing him, teasing his mouth, before pulling back.

"Come on. We have some ass to kick."

"And his opponents, at a combined weight of four hundred and fifty-seven pounds... they are the Unified Tag Team Champions, Chris Jericho, and the United States Champion, The Miz!"

The techs managed to combine their music during the week, so Mike's _Reality_ guitar rift ripped through the arena, followed by a man's voice screaming _"break the walls down!"_ for Chris'. The two walked out, Miz lifting both the tag belts over his head like trophies. The duo continued to move, scowls on both of their faces as they looked at John. They climbed in the ring before surrendering their belts. Chris nodded to Mike, who climbed outside of the ring. The ref called for the bell, and the match began.

Chris and John started the match out like a normal match. They locked up, only for Chris to shove John hard into the turnbuckle. John moved off the turnbuckle, only to get clotheslined by Chris next. He began to fight back, actually getting some decent momentum before Mike came in with a Singapore cane across his back. The match, if it could be called that progressed, with John gaining momentum only to lose it by the other tag team champion. Finally, outside the ring, beaten and bruised, John was dragged in the ring by his hair and put into the Walls of Jericho. Mike was on John's back, holding his arms above his head, pulling them backwards at an uncomfortable angle. The ref was in front of him, asking him if he submitted. John finally had to nod, and the ref called for the bell.

"And your winners by submission, the Unified Tag Team Champions, Chris Jericho and The Miz!"

The mixed song came back on, but neither Chris nor Mike let up on John at all. Finally, after the ref yelling and threatening to get security out there, did Mike catch sight of a little girl with red hair and green eyes watching him. Once he did, he let go of John's arms, pushing John's face into the mat. He stood up, holding his hands above him in victory. Chris got off John as well, lifting Mike's wrist up.

They walked backstage, Mickie and Beth joining them. Mickie wrapped her arms around Mike's neck, congratulating him for his win, as Beth quietly told them they did a good job. Chris smiled at Mike, who smiled back. The elder blond pulled Mike in for a kiss, and Mike knew then that no matter what came their way, they were going to be okay.

**-FIN-**

**AN**: And that is the end of _Behind the Facade_. I'm pretty proud of this one. The whole thing was half-baked the entire time. Anyway, now that I've finished this one, I'm working on two more. I don't know all the details of them, but they're coming up. I'm going to be working on an update for _Steamin' Up the Place_ very shortly here, so keep an eye out. Thanks to everyone who stuck with me for this one!!

_**.: TheMizMagnet :.**_


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